Involved
by Brooklyn Blue
Summary: "You used every last bit of your strength to put yourself back together after what he did...And now you're letting him waltz back into your life like he did nothing." — Warning: now a take on Carla's psychosis storyline. Potentially triggering content.
1. Chapter 1

Carla pressed her fingertips against her temples, as though this action alone could keep her headache at bay. She'd been staring at the computer screen for far too long, her eyes blurring slightly as she scanned over lines of numbers, checking columns meticulously before agreeing to terms and conditions, sending off confirmations. It was knocking on, the working day had ended over an hour ago and her staff had long since dissipated, eager to get home to their families or sink a few pints in the pub with their friends. Carla was enjoying the peace, it was so much easier to concentrate without the sound of a dozen sewing machines drilling into her skull.

Picking up her mug from the desk, she was disgruntled to find it empty. Surely she hadn't made her way through another coffee already? She'd only just made it! Biting her lip, her fingertips settled over the drawer beneath her desk, a silent debate going on in her head. It had been a gift, a gift for these very intended purposes. What would it matter if she just had one or two?

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the main door opening, which caused a frown to cross her features. It might have been a long day, but she definitely remembered locking the door before settling in for a spot of overtime.

"Peter?" Carla called out into the silence, wheeling her chair a little ways from beneath her desk, squinting her eyes as she tried to peer through the slots in the blinds. "Oh. What're you doing here?"

Michelle looked very offended at Carla's less than warm welcome. She'd appeared in the doorway with the beginnings of a smile that had soon slid off her face.

"Expecting someone else?" She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest as she pressed up against the doorframe, raising her brow. "You look disappointed."

"I'm just confused as to how you got in. I locked the door."

This seemed to sour Michelle's mood further. Slipping her hand into the pocket of the black denim jeans she was wearing, she produced a set of keys, shaking them smartly in front of her. "I've still got keys. How come you're still here?"

"Fancied a game of Spider Solitaire." She bit back sarcastically, pushing herself back towards her desk.

The younger woman was glancing almost suspiciously around the office, wandering over to the window and peering out into the workspace.

"Did you just come to admire the decor or do you actually want something?"

Michelle span back around, looking extremely put out.

"You know, it's like you don't actually want to hang around with me anymore."

"I'm working!" Carla exclaimed, gesturing obviously to the screen in front of her. Her brows flew towards her hairline in complete disbelief at Michelle's surly attitude. "Factories don't run themselves."

"Ah, but are you on your own? Or was the door locked for a reason?"

"Oh. I get it." Carla slammed her hands down onto her desk, raising herself from her seat and turning towards Michelle. "You're keeping tabs on me again."

Far from being embarrassed that she'd been caught out by the other woman, Michelle merely shrugged, stepping further into the office and taking the liberty of perching on top of her desk. It brought back memories of when she'd worked here, the pair of them scheming to wind up Rob; she'd enjoyed her time there, it had been unbelievably satisfying to drag the place from near closure and build it up, successfully keeping it out of Franks clutches and working alongside her best friend. Until _he'd_ come into the picture and ruined things. He'd ruined a lot of things.

"I came to see if you wanted to come out for dinner, actually."

"We had lunch together yesterday." Carla pointed out, nudging Michelle's foot from where it had found purchase on the arm of her chair.

"We didn't actually." The younger woman replied snippily, feeling herself getting more wound up over her friends dismissive attitude. "I brought you lunch and then you shooed me out as soon as Peter walked in."

Carla let out a tired groan, beginning the pace the floor of the office, rubbing her hands over her face. "You're flippin' obsessed with him." She muttered, turning her back on the younger woman after picking up a piece of paper from her desk, moving over towards the filing cabinet where she slid it absentmindedly into one of the drawers.

"I'm not, I'm just making sure you don't make any stupid mistakes." Michelle defended, her gaze unfaltering as Carla turned towards her; the only thing she seemed to be doing for sure was causing her temper to rise.

"And I'll be making sure to take those keys back if you make a habit of barging in here like this."

It was that threat which broke Michelle's resolve. Jumping from the desk, the younger woman tore the keys back out from her pocket and threw them so hard against the desk, they slid across the smooth surface and scattered papers that had been previously stacked in an organised pile.

" _Michelle!"_ Carla suddenly snapped, her voice raising as she marched across to the desk, snatching the spare set of keys up. "This is my business! Why are you so determined to be involved?"

"Because he broke your heart!" Michelle cried, pushing her hand through her hair in frustration, feeling the anger ripple through her chest, one that was tainted with pain. "And seeing you so hurt... it hurt me too." She muttered the last part quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor as wide, hazel eyes suddenly sparkled with tears. The younger woman was trying so hard to keep them at bay, her teeth gritting together with the effort.

Carla looked taken aback at her sudden show of emotion, her hard expression softening somewhat. Having been fully expecting a row, the younger woman's change in demeanour had completely thrown her. What was going on in her head? She dared to take a small step closer to the other woman. "'Chelle..." She began, having absolutely no idea what she was about to follow it up with.

"You used every last bit of your strength to put yourself back together after what he did." She whispered, still staring determinedly at the office floor, picking out the dark scuff marks from the wheels of office hairs or the squeak of a pretentious clients squeaky new shoes. "And now you're letting him waltz back into your life like he did nothing."

"I'm not-"

"Oh come off it!" Michelle scoffed angrily, finally meeting the other woman's eyes, her own ablaze with anger. "You think I didn't know what stunt you were pulling when you let him interview that girl? You do understand that if it hadn't have been Tina, he'd have found another young, daft floozy to play away with? Do you think she was special? Or that you were?" She thundered, her harsh revelation causing a fiery anger to spread through Carla's own veins, boiling her blood.

"Don't you dare act like you understood what went on between Peter and I. You have no clue-"

"No _you_ are the one without a clue, Carla. What on Earth are you playing at?"

The older brunette took a menacing step forward towards Michelle, pointing a finger at her warningly as her teeth grit together in frustration. "Michelle, I don't want to fall out with you. But what I do is none of your business."

"Until it falls apart again and I'm the one running around to make sure you're eating, sleeping, not going to pieces."

Carla raised her eyebrows incredulously, horrified as she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. How could she throw that back in her face? Had Michelle really resented helping her? The idea caused a whirl of hurt in her chest, she thought that's what friends did for one another, what they'd always done for one another. Right back to when they were kids and Michelle had given Carla's very first boyfriend an almighty slap on discovering him kissing another girl in the year below. On Valentine's Day, too, just to really rub salt into the wound. The younger, but ever fiery brunette had raged at the boy, they must have only been around thirteen or fourteen at the time and she'd seen to it that the other girls day hadn't been entirely ruined. She'd turned up at her house after school, cautiously picking her way through the crumpled cans and old take away cartons that littered the scruffy garden, hemmed in by a rickety fence with half of the grotty wooden panels missing and the gate hanging on by its hinges. It had been a brave move, walking through bay estate alone. Michelle had purposely found the tackiest, soppiest card she could, one that she knew Carla would love to hate, and scrawled ' _You're still my number one girl. Chin up babe!'_ , followed my a row of kisses, her name signed neatly at the bottom. She'd even used the last of her pocket money to buy the biggest bar of chocolate she could find in the shop and a glossy, fashion magazine full of outfits and hairstyles and gossip. They'd spent the evening flicking through it together, sharing the chocolate and fantasising about growing up to be famous; taking it in turns to decide on an occasion to attend and choosing which they'd wear. Michelle's hair had been short back then, neat and sleek but Carla's was long and straggly, completely neglected; the younger girl would still insist she envied it and she'd tried to replicate some of their preferred styles from the magazine. By the end of the night, she'd completely forgotten about being so upset. Of course it was completely different as adults, when the life you have planned suddenly falls apart and it's not a two-week-boyfriend, but a husband that had been doing a lot more than just kissing a girl, a lot more than a year younger. It hadn't been as easily fixed, but Michelle had still chosen to help her. Or she thought she'd chosen to.

"Well I'm sorry I've been such a burden to you." Carla snapped, her walls of defence shooting up around her. "Rest assured if I 'go to pieces' again, you're under no obligation to help me up. In fact, you can butt out altogether."

There was a flicker of guilt in Michelle's eyes as she realised how Carla had interpreted her comment, but her snide reply forced any consideration of putting her right completely out of her head. "So you are planning on letting him back into your life again?"

"I thought I just told you to butt out? Have your ears stopped working? Is because your nose has been doing so much overtime? Sticking itself into situations that really don't concern you."

"It does when it involves you throwing yourself into the flames again. Why do you always do this?" She sighed softly, heaviness settling in the pit of her stomach. It hadn't been her intention to cause an argument, it was the last thing she wanted, especially under the current circumstances. In fact, despite what the other woman had thought she'd tried to insinuate, if anything she wanted to be as close to her as possible, making sure she didn't get herself caught up in trouble. "If you could see yourself the way I see you, you'd realise you deserve so much better."

"What? Desperate, damaged and lonely?" Carla laughed dryly, there was no humour in her tone. Michelle's brow furrowed, looking completely floored at the woman's revelation, she could barely even begin to contemplate them. She shook her head, walking towards her until they were face to face, reaching up to curl a finger beneath her chin, a move Carla had used on her many times before. Grazing her thumb tenderly against the other woman's jaw, she met her eyes, staring through the animosity that had gathered in the green hues as they'd verged on rowing. Breaking through that layer, she found the unsure, troubled gaze of a young girl, the one's she'd stared into in the past when they'd promised each other that they'd get off the estate, find a happiness that they were surely warranted after everything they'd been through.

"That's not what I see, that isn't who you are."

The intensity of the younger woman's gaze was almost unsettling, Carla was sure she could see straight through to her soul and she suddenly felt exposed, willing the mask of indifference to slip back across her features. Like Michelle wouldn't be wise to that, like she couldn't already see straight through it.

"I'm not even sure I know who I am myself these days." She attempted to joke, though there was a sad truth to her words.

"Maybe you do feel lonely, maybe you've had a rough time and maybe we could have all tried a bit harder to support you with this place. I'm sorry we didn't, I'm sorry if your family let you down, that I let you down..." She trailed off, guilt flickering across her features. If there had been any way she could, she'd have done it in a heartbeat, the way Carla had done for her so many times. It weighed heavy in her heart that she hadn't been able to offer an ounce of support. No wonder the other woman had resorted to such rash measures. "But those things aren't who you are. You're strong and independent, you're smart ninety-nine percent of the time, you're determined and you're stunning. You don't need him."

Carla let out a hum of disbelief, which Michelle ignored. Instead, she wrapped her arms firmly around the other woman and pulled her into a close embrace, combing her fingertips through chestnut tresses, the fragrant scent of her shampoo infiltrating her senses, before letting her hand fall down to rub soothing circles against her back.

"I wish you loved yourself even just half as much as I love you." Michelle whispered softly, cupping her cheek as she pulled back from the hug, allowing her thumb to brush lightly against a well defined cheekbone. "You're worth so much more."

The older woman's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her head turning slightly into her warm palm; she felt her heart swell, touched by the amount of care Michelle always demonstrated for her. At times it was so intense that she didn't fully know exactly how to accept it. It wasn't something she'd grown up being used to receiving. Well, not from anyone other than Michelle herself.

"I kissed him." Carla suddenly confessed, her words fluttering around the room, absorbing into the walls that had kept the secret. She didn't know why she'd chosen to share it now; it just felt wrong hiding it from her. Her eyes left the other woman's in remorse. "I don't know why, I was upset..."

Michelle's face fell, her features creased in utter devastation, her shoulders drooling as she felt the deathly grip of despair begin to cripple her heart. She was too late, then. Carla had already crossed the line she'd been desperately trying to pull her back from. Her hands fell limply to her sides, her eyes closing sadly, she looked completely defeated.

"I can't stop you, I wouldn't even attempt to control you like that... but I can control my part in this. I'm sorry."

"Michelle?"

"I can't bear to see you hurt again, I won't be able to stand it."

"I don't understand-" Carla's brow furrowed, the corner of her mouth lifting in bewilderment.

"If you want him, that's your choice. But this ones mine, so I need you to respect it."

"Michelle, I don't- What're you saying?"

"My heart broke, too." She whispered, tears finally splashing down her cheeks, dripping onto her top, staining the stark white with minute puddles of grey which started to fan out and spread over the material. "Seeing you in so much pain, I felt it. Here." Her hand hand reached up to press against her own chest, fingers spraying out as her palm grazed against her heart, as though the phantom pain was still there. "You might be willing to put yourself through it again, but I'm not. I can't."

Tears had sprung in Carla's eyes now, her hand reaching out desperately towards the other woman but she stepped back, shaking her head. Her lower lip trembled and her throat rippled as she swallowed a sob, pressing her mouth together in attempt to refrain from crying out.

"I'm sorry." Was all she offered. It was probably all she could offer, her voice had cracked and she suddenly turned on heel, her glossy hair whipping about her face and rippling in the bright office light at her sudden haste to leave. The squeak of the door echoed harshly in the silence, a sharp cry that sounded pained, as though protesting against what it had just witnessed.

"'Chelle...Michelle!" Carla called out desperately, catching the door before it could fully close. "Michelle, wait! You can't just cut me out, we live on the same-"

But she'd already left, the main door slamming shut and the factory suddenly felt twice the size, huge and empty and Carla felt tiny. She stood rooted to the spot, it felt as though lead had settled in her stomach, weighing her to the ground. A prickle of panic spread across the back of her neck as she glanced around the silent building, suddenly feeling like she was falling, as though she'd been hanging from a rope that had been severed without warning. Swallowing hard, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together because she was now crumbling harder than she had been before. She felt every bit that lost little girl, falling over in the school playground and reaching out for the one person who had never walked by or pointed and laughed. But this time when she held out her hand, it closed hopelessly around the empty air. She wasn't there anymore.

 **A/n: sorry, this got a bit sad. I think it's somewhat accurate to the current storyline but I've only watched snippets, so this is just something I've based from that. I'll probably work on a happier one shot in the future!**


	2. Chapter 2

"What, so Peter just sold it without telling you?"

"Yep."

"Completely behind your back?"

"Yes, Kate." Carla sighed, dropping her head into her hand and rubbing it across her forehead. She was nursing a large glass of wine at the Bistro but had yet to take more than a few sips. She was still reeling from the day's events.

"To your ex husband, as well?"

"Yes! To Nick! Flamin' hell Kate have you got-" But whatever she'd been about to say died on her tongue. The kitchen door had swung open and Michelle had come gliding out of it, curls billowing as she made her way over to the far end of the bar and started to pluck various glasses from the shelf. It wasn't busy, but they did have a party of six with a birthday celebration and none of them seemed to be able to decide what they wanted to drink; she suddenly had three different cocktails to knock up alongside the rest of the table's order.

She'd swept by without even glancing across at them, but now Carla was gazing over at her, face saddened, olive eyes widened with longing. They hadn't spoke for weeks since their showdown in Underworld. For the first couple, Carla had tried to catch her off guard, collaring her at work or on the street, but she'd given her one word answers to any questions she'd asked and would mostly slip off into the kitchen to avoid her.

"Just say hello?" Kate suggested, watching Michelle begin to slice up lemon with an air of animosity. Her lips were pursed, knuckles white against the knife she was holding.

"I've tried time and time again, she just won't speak to me." Carla sighed, her brow furrowing as she took in the other brunette's tense frame. She seemed angry. "'Chelle?" Her attempt to attract her attention was tentative but futile. Michelle was continuing to blank them, the smooth action of the knife never faltering. " _Michelle."_

At Carla's firm tone, she sighed and put down the knife. "Daniel! Can you come and serve I'm-" she stopped on turning around, clocking eyes on the youngest brunette. "Well Kate's there! _You_ serve her, I'm busy."

"I don't need serving-"

"Well then stop trying to distract me, this knife is sharp." She snapped, turning her back on the pair once more.

"It's not the only thing that's sharp." Carla mumbled, shooting Kate an I-told-you-so grimace. She was still watching Michelle, a slight smile across her face as she took in the way her face was set with concentration; the other woman was now measuring out quantities of syrups and spirits, having layered the glasses in front of her with fruit and ice. Her brow knitted together, teeth pulling on her lower lip and she still managed to look effortlessly elegant in the simple, sleeveless black dress which wrapped around her figure. Michelle turned around to grab a handful of straws from the box which boasted they were now bio degradable and for a split second her eyes found Carla's, who felt a sudden surge of hope in her heart. One that was crushed within the next moment, when the younger woman turned back to the drinks without even acknowledging her presence.

"You really miss her, don't you?" Kate observed, looking from Carla to Michelle with a saddened sigh. It wasn't much fun being stuck in the middle of the warring duo, either.

"Of course I do, she's my best friend. Or was." The last part caused her to swallow hard, her eyes watering as though the words had caused her pain.

"It might blow over." Kate suggested hopefully, trying to brighten her sister's rapidly dulling mood. The waitress glanced edgily at Michelle before scooting further towards Carla, dropping her voice drastically. "Strictly between us, I don't think it's just you." Before she could ask what the other woman meant, the kitchen door swung open and Robert came into view. He looked just as tense as Michelle. Without even acknowledging the fact that Kate was gossiping with her sister instead of working, he moved up to where his partner was finishing adding cocktail cherries on top of the drinks she'd made and murmured something to her.

Carla watched intently, the way her shoulders tensed at whatever he'd said, her eyes alive with fury when she turned to face him.

"Not here." Michelle hissed through clenched teeth, plucking a tray from where they were stacked and beginning to load glasses into it. Unwisely, Robert chose to ignore her request and reached out to pull her hand away from the drinks, trying to catch her attention once more.

"We can't leave it like this-"

"I've told you, I'm _done_ with this conversation! What part of that don't you understand?" She snapped at him fiercely, not bothering to keep her voice down this time. Robert glanced uncertainly around the Bistro, a few semi-interested gazes had followed the sound of Michelle's sharp cry, but had then returned to their meals or previous conversations.

"Right. Fine. Get back to serving then." He replied back shortly, which was clearly the wrong thing to say.

With an incredulous scoff, Michelle slammed down the tray she'd just lifted up with so much force that a considerable amount of liquid sloshed over the rims of glasses, soaking the surface and her hands in the process. She pushed by Robert and dipped into the kitchen, returning seconds later with her coat slung around her shoulders.

"Do it yourself." Were her parting words, the harsh echo of her heels against the hard floor followed by the rapid squeak and slam of the door which she'd thrown open in her haste to leave the restaurant.

Robert stood for a second, open mouthed, his eyes narrow with anger before he came to his senses and suddenly seemed to realise they'd had an audience. "Sort that out, Kate." He muttered gruffly, jabbing his thumb over the mess of drinks Michelle had left behind before retreating back into the kitchen with a growl of frustration.

Carla's eyes swivelled to her sister for some sort of explanation, but she just gave a small shrug, her lips pressed together, eyebrows raised. "It's been like this all week."

"I'm going to go after her." She suddenly decided, grabbing her bag from off the top of the bar and slinging it onto her shoulder.

"Yeah, I better sort this out anyway." Kate sighed, leaning across to receive the goodbye kiss Carla pressed against her cheek, ignoring the pointed comment from the closest table who were wondering out loud where their drinks had got to.

When Carla stepped out onto the street, she found that Michelle wasn't anywhere in sight. Deciding that the younger woman could have possibly headed home, she began the walk to Victoria Court, firing off a text to Johnny asking him to let her know if Michelle turned up there. Stopping along the way to check that she hadn't gone into the cafe, she gave a small wave to Roy and plucked her phone from her pocket which had just vibrated against her leg.

' _She's not here love x'_

Right, so unless she'd managed to jump on a bus or flag down a cab at rapid speed, it was looking more hopeful that she'd gone back to her apartment. She contemplated for a moment that it wasn't likely Michelle would let her in, but luck must have been on her side because as soon as she reached out to press the button, the door swung open and she was greeted by a familiar and thankfully friendly face.

"Oh, hello! Are you going up to see mum?" Ryan asked brightly, allowing her to enter the building. "Word of warning, she's in a foul mood!"

"Hiya darlin', thank you," Carla offered him a smile, giving her nephew a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Yeah I'm going to see if she's alright." Either Ryan didn't know that herself and Michelle had fallen out or he wasn't choosing sides, because he was just as warm to her as always as he bid her goodbye and jokingly wished her luck. Carla swallowed; perhaps she needed it more than he knew.

She knocked twice on the door, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. When there was no answer, she knocked again, harder this time. A muffled groan came from behind the wood.

"For God sake, Ryan, have you forgotten your-" The door had flown open and Michelle stopped short, her mouth remaining open in shock. She stood slightly shorter than Carla, having shed her uncomfortable heels the second she'd arrived home. Her eyes looked slightly pink but her make-up didn't seem smeared, so Carla couldn't quite tell if she had been crying. Maybe she'd been on the verge. She met Michelle's widened hazel eyes and her chest swelled with longing. Kate was right. She _had_ missed her.

"Can I come in?" Carla asked uncertainly, trying to arrange her features to appear more concerned rather than hopeful, desperate even. "Please?" The older woman added, when Michelle still hadn't answered her. It didn't go unnoticed by her that it was done with reluctance when Michelle gave a small nod and stepped aside to let her through. Her stomach dropped slightly, the younger woman didn't seem to be struggling with the separation as much as she was.

"Is it going to take long? I've got things I need to be doing."

Carla inwardly winced. So this is how it was going to be?

"Michelle, can we just cut all this out?"

"What?"

"You know what!" Carla groaned in frustration, shrugging her bag from her shoulder and allowing it to drop to the floor. "Look, I just came to see if you were alright after what happened with Robert. I didn't-"

"I don't want to talk about that." Michelle cut across her, folding her arms in annoyance. "So if that's why you're here, you might as well turn around and go out the way you came."

"'Chelle!" Carla was taken aback at her rude dismissal, concern marring her expression. It wasn't like the younger woman to be so snippy, even if they had fallen out. Something must have happened. "If you tell me, I might be able to help-"

"Look, Carla, it's none of your business. Alright?" Michelle fired at her, not in the mood for another showdown with the woman she'd spent weeks trying to avoid.

"A bit like it was none of your business about Peter?" She couldn't help but quip back. As much as she was trying to make allowances for Michelle's unreasonable behaviour, the frustration combined with the feeling the younger woman was being more than a little hypocritical had touched a nerve for Carla. Perhaps this is exactly what they needed, maybe it would be the start of clearing the air.

All that happened, however, was the darkening of Michelle's eyes, the anger flaring in her chest, scorching her skin as it rose and bubbled down her back, across her shoulders. "That wasn't the same thing! I was doing that to try and stop you from making the same mistakes, I didn't want you to get hurt. Not that it made a blind bit of difference because you never listen and now look."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well he went behind your back _again_ , didn't he? Sold his shares completely on the sly and I bet you actually thought he'd changed, didn't you?"

It was the laugh that did it, that humorous scoff at her expense that caused the eruption inside of her. It hurt, it hurt so badly because it was true, it hurt because the shame was crippling her and it hurt because it was Michelle. Someone who she'd never had anything but constant support from, who had been beside her no matter what. Carla thought she'd understood, she thought there'd been enough trust between them that Michelle wouldn't throw such harsh judgement in her face.

"How can you stand there and laugh at my life when your own has been just as much of a joke? What about Steve, ey? Not one, but two affairs he had behind your back! And you were so stupidly blind you didn't even realise your fiancé was taking steroids!" Carla couldn't stop the words tumbling from her lips even though she knew how cruel they were. "And things aren't exactly great now, are they? Is he back on them? Is that why you've been rowing all week?"

Michelle was stunned into silence, looking as though she'd been slapped in the face. Carla might as well have, because her retaliating comment had hit harder than any she'd ever received. Hurt swam to the forefront of her eyes, filling them to the brim with unshed tears. It was what she should have expected, she'd goaded the other woman into it and she was sure at the time the factory gossip had probably relayed similar opinions. It tore deeper coming from Carla and she understood then, the humiliation, how her former best friend had needed to jump in to defend herself like that. She'd hit hard and Carla had hit back harder.

"Get out." Was all she whispered, pointing a shaking hand to the door. "I mean it, get out right now."

"You know I was actually worried about you." Carla was making her way towards he apartment door, which Michelle had stalked over to and gladly thrown open for her. "That's why I came. Even after everything, I hated the thought of you being upset."

"Don't you dare try to make me feel guilty. If you'd cared at all about me being upset, you wouldn't have completely blanked me to chase after him all those weeks ago! Just for once I hoped you'd choose someone who actually cared about you."

Carla grabbed hold of her hand to stop her from closing the door and pulled the younger woman towards her the exact moment she stepped back into the flat, placing them almost nose to nose. They were still breathing heavily, the animosity between them hadn't yet dissipated.

"I _did_ choose you." Her voice was low and clear, her only chance of making Michelle see what she'd been trying to tell her for weeks. "I could have let myself fall head over feels for him, it would have been _so_ much easier, so simple." She held up her fingertip between their faces, silencing any response which Michelle had been about to form. "But I wouldn't have been truly happy, not without you." The intensity of her gaze was scaring the younger woman, it was too much. There was too much hurt swirling in those green hues and she'd caused it. But she wasn't sure she was ready to forgive what Carla had said in retaliation; they'd said too much just to sweep it under the carpet and be friends again.

"You didn't even know though, did you? You made me choose and you didn't even stick around anyway."

"I didn't _make_ you do anything." Michelle resented the word. "It wasn't about you, it was about what _I_ could cope with. You might have been willing to put yourself through all that but l couldn't see you hurt."

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I've never been as hurt."

"Carla-" Michelle's voice cracked, her resolve weakening. She knew the irony of it, she knew it was unfair. A stony demeanour might have fooled Carla and the rest of the world but inside, guilt had been writhing the entire time: she'd put her own needs first and as much as she told herself, as much has Robert had agreed it was reasonable, it had never felt as foreign with every fibre of her being. It hadn't felt like her, it hadn't felt natural, breaking the ties between them. The feeling of missing Carla, even missing part of herself hadn't eased. But every time she'd seen the older woman smiling and talking with Peter like he hadn't destroyed her life, her heart had sank to her stomach and an icy indifference had settled in its place. It was thawing rapidly now though, as it had been bit by bit each time Carla had caught her in the street to try and say hello or offered her a friendly, saddened smile across the bar. "I just can't bear to see you with him."

"Who can you bear to see me with, then?" Carla asked, her tone serious. There was still just as much depth in her stare, her eyes were so warm, a low sun cast over grassy banks as it began to set in summer. Michelle looked as though she was trying to pick out the malice or sarcasm that she'd expected to come with the question.

"That's not- no one can decide that for-"

"I'm not asking you to decide, I'm asking what _you_ want."

They were closer than before, the air around them heavy with the weight of a realisation that was threatening to wind its way around the both of them. Michelle's eyes were filled with tears once more and Carla reached out to cup her face, thumb resting against her cheek bone, ready to catch them should they fall. Their eyes met and for the first time, Michelle was struggling to read the other woman. Carla expected to feel the warmth of Michelle's breath against her lips, she'd moved in close enough that their noses lightly bumped together, but it appeared the younger woman was holding hers too. Even if she hadn't been terrified to breathe, Carla realised she wouldn't have been able to anyway. All the air was sucked from her lungs when her lips grazed Michelle's, her touch featherlight. Her heart was suddenly racing with exhilaration, thought process completely obliterated because her brain had jammed, her entire attention focused solely on how _good_ the cushion of the younger woman's lips felt against her own. She'd enveloped her lower one entirely now, the hand that wasn't resting against Michelle's cheek settling at the side of her neck. Feeling the younger woman's mouth shift against her own, latching onto her upper lip, she dared to slide her fingertips into Michelle's hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. It was this movement that jarred the other woman and she pulled back abruptly, tearing her mouth away from Carla's.

"What the hell are you doing?" The words left her lips in a fearful whisper. She looked completely terrified, eyes wide, rooted to the spot on the floor.

The question rang in Carla's ears, freezing her brain. She didn't know. She didn't _know._ What had she been thinking? In that one moment of madness it seemed like everything had made sense. It _felt_ like it had been the right thing to do. Her lips were still tingling in the aftermath of having Michelle's pressed against them. Carla suddenly felt very aware of her body, her heart pounding in her chest, pulsing in her head, her limbs heavy as though made of lead. She was still searching for a response, the words wouldn't form on her tongue.

"Answer me!" Michelle suddenly cried out, tripping over herself in her haste to put more distance between them.

"I'm sorry, Michelle I'm sorry-"

"You're _sorry?"_ The younger woman's voice was shaking, tears spilling down her cheeks which she impatiently tried to swipe away. "Why would you- What did- You just _kissed_ me!"

Carla closed her eyes, taking a deep breath that caught in her throat. She was shaking. She couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand the way Michelle was looking at her as though disgusted at what she'd just done. But there was something else too, that spike of fury in her chest because she was sure, _sure_ that just for part of a second, Michelle had started to kiss her back.

"Yes, Michelle, I'm sorry. Alright? I got it wrong."

"Got it wrong?" She scoffed, pushing her hand through her hair, not even bothering to wipe away the fresh tears that dropped from her eyes. "No, Carla, answering incorrectly at the pub quiz is getting it wrong, accidentally short-changing someone is getting it wrong. Kissing your _best friend-_ "

"'Best friend'?" Carla cried out, a panicked laugh escaping her own lips. "That's rich! You've not spoke to me for weeks. Now suddenly we're best friends?"

"No, you're right, we're not. Because best friends don't do _that!_ " She was attempting to keep her voice level, somewhat conscious of the neighbours but found that she couldn't keep the hysteria out of it. "I'm with someone! I'm not- you can't just- I'm not playing these mind games with you, Carla!" She suddenly turned serious, fixing the other woman with a glare.

"You kissed me back." Carla wasn't sure if she was stating a fact or accusing the younger woman. She couldn't be certain that Michelle had, maybe she thought she had because she'd _wanted_ her to. If Michelle clearly hadn't, then she couldn't even begin to contemplate the colossal mistake she may have just made.

"I didn't-" Michelle broke off, worrying at her lower lip. She was trying to work out if there was truth to the words. It had happened so fast, she hadn't had any time to react properly. One second they'd been talking and the next Carla's lips had been on hers, warm and so _soft._ They'd gently caressed her own in a way that was so caring that she hadn't been able to help it. The jolt of panic that surged through her body on the realisation she had responded caused her to physically jerk backwards and she suddenly turned fierce in a bid to defend herself. "I didn't know what I was doing! How could you possibly think that was okay? What on Earth Possessed you-"

"I don't know." Carla snapped, having had enough of being shouted at, unable to stand the humiliation. "A moment of sheer madness." She snatched up her bag and wrapped her hand around the door handle, flinging it open. "Don't worry, I don't even want to _look_ at you anymore."

Their eyes met for a brief second in spite of her words, neither of them deciding to take notice of the desperation they both held. Michelle allowed her expression to grow cold, surveying Carla with a look of finality.

"Ditto. Get out and leave me alone."

"Fine." Carla turned her back on the younger woman and this time did exactly what she'd been told. She heard the door slam behind her accompanied by Michelle's scream of frustration.

She just about made it down the corridor, but didn't make the steps. She collapsed on the first one, clinging onto the banister as her knees gave out. One hand was pressed against her chest because she was sure her heart had fractured. Even when she let go of the banister to throw her other hand over her mouth, her broken cry still echoed shrilly around the stairwell. Tears streamed down her cheeks, eyes screwed up in agony as she sobbed, holding onto herself tightly for fear she would break completely apart if she let go.

Oh it was pain. So strong she was unsure she'd ever be capable of feeling anything so intensely again. It burned and stung. It prickled all over her neck, across her back, spreading to her shoulders and down her arms. It was a hard thumping in her chest and a tight squeeze around her heart, stabs of pain which left her short of breath until her head started to spin and she became dizzy with the grief.

Because surely this was a loss? A loss she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to handle. It was so brutally certain; they'd never be friends again.

 **A/n: I didn't think I was going to update this and I am still working on the next chapter of 'Glass Hearts' but the last few days haven't felt very good and I have definitely been more in the mindset for angst rather than love-y stuff. So just a quick update to get a load off**!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: I mentioned in** _ **Glass Hearts**_ **that I'd be adding to this. Didn't quite expect the chapter to end up this long but here we are. It's a bit of a rollercoaster.**

"Do you think they'll get back together? It's not looking exactly hot right now." Kate mused, watching the way Carla walked in and threw Peter a filthy look before heading towards them.

"Makes no odds to me," Michelle shrugged, her face splitting into a grin when the door opened again and Robert walked through, which confused the Bistro owner no end because it seemed all they'd been doing over the last few weeks was going at one another's throats. "It's her life and she's entitled to stuff it up any which way she likes."

The comment shocked Kate, she'd made no effort to keep her voice down and Carla had been well within earshot of it. The older brunette slammed her bag down against the bar and turned to Michelle.

"Oi, I heard that!"

"I really wish I cared," Michelle shrugged, reaching up to wrap her arms around her fiancé's neck and pulling him down, meeting him for a firm kiss. "Did you hear that? Apparently not deaf, just daft."

"Michelle!" Kate attempted to intervene, taken aback at her uncalled for abruptness. She waited for Carla to round on the other woman, snap back, an inevitable argument to descend but the Factory boss merely picked up her bag and stomped around the the other side of the bar. At first it looked like she was just there to pour her own drink, seeing as Jenny was at the other end serving (and gossiping) with Rita, but after she'd plucked a bottle of wine and a glass from the stock, she continued into the back room and out of sight.

"Michelle, that was really harsh." Kate frowned, eyeing her and Robert up wearily. It had been unbearable working with them recently, any given thing could set them off rowing with one another and the young waitress was sick and tired of darting between them, trying to hold her tongue so she wouldn't upset anyone or cause either to suddenly erupt into a fit of rage. If that wasn't enough, whatever the hell had happened when Carla had tried talking Michelle round seemed to have colossally backfired, for the two women barely glanced in one another's direction, meaning even in her home life she was again, having to volley between them. She'd tried collaring Ryan and Ali, but the two men were oblivious and Carla had thrown herself into the factory work with such intensity that she'd barely seen her older sister.

"Well we've been getting on better since you let her go." Robert nodded, looking pleased. "She's always so controlling and I mean she hasn't been that great of a friend to you, she's way too entitled—"

"That's my sister." Kate snapped, throwing up the hatch with force, clearly about to join her rather than listen to her be slagged off.

Despite her words, hearing Robert speak about Carla that way caused anger to flare in Michelle's stomach. How dare he? He didn't _know_ her. Not properly. Not enough to be judging her. She forced back the urge to tell him to shove off and follow Kate, knowing how completely ridiculous that would look. Instead, she cast half a second's longing glance in the direction of the back room, before turning her attention to Robert and trying to look interested in his ideas about dishes for the 'specials' menu the following week.

 **IXIXIXI**

Kate pushed the door open, finding Carla immersed in her phone, scanning her eyes over an email with a frown, wine glass topped well and truly topped up. She took a large gulp from it and sat back with a sigh.

"I sent the confirmation to you, you stupid, docile—Oh, hey Kate."

"Are you alright?" Daft question, really, but she wasn't too sure how to broach the subject.

"Tickety flamin' boo, me."

"Look, what Michelle said—"

"I've got bigger things to worry about than Madam's strop." Carla bit out, tensing slightly at the topic.

Kate bit her lip, wondering if she should leave it but deciding that she couldn't bear to see the two looking miserable for any longer than she had to.

"I know it's not my business," she began carefully, knowing she'd have to tiptoe very delicately indeed to stop Carla from clamming up. "But you both just seem so miserable. And like you _hate_ one another. Can it be that bad? I thought you'd gone around to talk to her that time?"

Carla scoffed to herself, her eyes still on her phone screen purely to avoid Kate's; she'd stopped reading the email as soon as her sister had walked in. Her head was swimming with excuses, heart racing. For the life of her, she had no clue why Michelle hadn't told anyone. She had no idea if she'd told Robert but his glances toward her had been semi-sympathetic, as though he was sorry it had come to such hostility between them.

 _Or pitying you because he's got what you want—_

Hang on. No. Carla _didn't_ want her. Not like _that._ Not the way Robert had her, the way he effortlessly slung his arm around her shoulders, glanced down at her so she'd looked up and offer a smile. But not the right smile. Not _her_ smile. The way her head would tilt to one side and she looked into her eyes, but might as well have been staring straight into her soul because she seemed to always know exactly what she was thinking. It was scary, sometimes she felt like Michelle could read her mind. Or maybe not, she thought glumly, because then she'd be able to see how much it so clearly hurt.

"Carla? Are you okay?" Kate frowned, noticing the way the other brunette's hand had clenched tightly around the step of her wineglass, knuckles whitening from the pressure.

"Yep."

She'd done her crying; if Michelle wasn't prepared to forgive her then all she could do was try and move on. Which might have been easy if it wasn't for the way Michelle seemed to flaunt Robert in front of her, the smugness on her face which she couldn't help but read as 'he's got me, not you.'

 _Stop it. You_ don't _want her. What are you playing at?_

She wanted some of relationship with her, that's all. Her friendship. That's what she wanted back. He had one and she didn't, that's what was bothering her. That was it.

"Can't you try talking to her again? Or do you want me to try and—"

"No!" Carla looked up then, the words flying out of her mouth, causing Kate's to snap shut in shock. "Sorry, sorry." She hastened to add, biting her lip worriedly. "No, it's my fault. I did something. I made it worse. Please don't interfere Kate, just let her get on with her life if that's what she wants."

"But you've been friends—"

"Since we were kids, I know." She sighed heavily, wrapping her lips around the rim of her glass and draining its entirety. "I'm going to have to go back to the factory. This idiot doesn't know how to read." She indicated to her phone before standing up, feeling herself go dizzy.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit lightheaded. I'll pick up lunch from the cafe." She nodded, stowing her phone back into her pocket and slinging her back over her shoulder.

Kate followed her out worriedly, grabbing a bag of crisps from one of the boxes as she passed and pushing them into Carla's hands.

"Take these as well." If there was a long line at the cafe, she knew her sister wouldn't bother waiting. Carla offered her a soft smile of genuine thanks before flipping the hatch once more. Her shoulder brushed by Michelle's back as she left and she had to tell herself it was accidental, but aside from the slight waver in the younger woman's voice as she continued to chat to Robert, she gave no indication that she'd noticed.

"What's that all about?" Jenny mused, clearly bored now Rita had left.

"I was just making sure Carla had something to eat. She stood up in the back room and went dizzy." Kate spoke loudly, purposely close to Michelle and felt a flicker of triumph when the woman's eyes swivelled from her fiancé's to Kate's, an anxious frown knitting her brow. "You know what she's like for skipping meals when she's stressing."

Jenny nodded sympathetically, picking up a towel and absentmindedly beginning to dry the glasses she'd left to drain. "She never stops, that one."

But Kate wasn't focusing on Jenny, she was working out whether all hope was lost and judging from the way the concern was still etched into Michelle's features even as she'd turned back to Robert, who checked the time on his watch and jumped, it wasn't lost yet.

"God, I'd better be getting back. That veg won't chop itself." He sighed, pocketing his phone and pressing a swift kiss to Michelle's cheek, who wasn't due on shift at all that day. "I'll see you later, love you."

"Oh, lady of leisure are we?" Jenny smiled, sidling up to Michelle and nodding towards her empty glass. "Top up?"

Michelle hesitated for a moment, before clocking Maria, who was sat in a booth in her own lunch hour, eyes skimming across a magazine with a half eaten sandwich beside her.

"Yeah go on then, I've not much else on. Do you mind bringing it over?"

Kate waited until Michelle was safely seated out of earshot before hissing at Jenny, beckoning her over.

"Right, we're going to fix this." She nodded determinedly, eyes lighting up with the plan that was formulating in her head. "And I need your help."

Jenny looked excited at the prospect of being involved and leant in closer as Kate began to whisper.

 **IXIXIXI**

"Oh, I don't know where Johnny has got to." Jenny complained loudly, while Kate rolled her eyes, peeking out from where she was keeping watch, ducked behind the other side of the bar. She was laying it on a little too thick.

Carla had received a message from Kate asking if she'd meet her in the pub urgently, to talk, but when she'd walked in and her sister was nowhere to be seen, she assumed she was early and could see Jenny struggling with the two boxes of crisps she had balanced in her hands. Out of sight, Kate nodded towards Rana, Imran and Toyah, who all decided to grace the bar and call to Jenny for different orders.

"Oh and have you got a bag of prawn cocktail?" Imran nodded, while Jenny pretended to look exasperated.

"Yeah down in the cellar." She huffed, before turning to Carla and raising her eyebrows pleadingly.

"Carla, I don't suppose you'd mind bobbing down and grabbing the box for me? Just while I serve these lot? You'd be doing me a huge favour." She continued to implore, gesturing gravely to the two boxes she was yet to stack.

"I've come here to relax, not be roped into a shift at a pub I don't even work in." She huffed, though dumped her bag unceremoniously onto the bar and rolled her eyes, stalking off in the direction of the cellar.

Seizing her chance, Kate leapt from where she was hidden and waited until Carla had pulled open the door, before giving her the slightest shove to usher the bewildered woman in and slamming it shut on her.

"Oi! What the hell are you playing at? Kate!" Carla banged her fist against the door, seizing the handle even though she'd heard the jangle of keys and click of the lock. It was dark, but she could just about make out the steps and with a strangled cry of fight that caught in her throat, realised that she wasn't alone.

Stood holding a box of prawn cocktail crisps, looking very much like a deer in headlights, was Michelle. She had the same stunned expression across her face as Carla, the air suddenly thick with tension.

"Er— Jenny sent me down for—"

"Crisps. Yeah, snap." Carla sighed, rapping pointlessly on the door once more.

"Kate, this isn't funny." She called out, folding her arms across her body. There was a slight chill in the air and she was only clad in her leather jacket, it wasn't providing a lot of warmth.

"It's not supposed to be funny. We'll let you both out when you've had a talk." Came her sister's muffled voice from behind the wood, causing Carla to grit her teeth in frustration.

"I've not got time for this!"

However, there came no reply, just the faint intro of music and the thump of a beat she vaguely recognised. Someone had started up the duke box, probably Kate herself. Or one of her minions, as Carla realised with another pang of irritation that Rana, Imran and Toyah had played their part in her younger sister's scheme. Was there anyone who didn't know that she and Michelle had fallen out? It really wasn't something she wanted airing out in the street.

There was a loud thump and rattle, Michelle had allowed the box she was holding to drop out of her arms, watching as it hit the last two steps and rolled back onto the cellar floor, a few stray packets managing to sneak out of the top where the lid had burst open. She sat down on the step with an agitated sigh, her back firmly presented to the other woman.

"I didn't initiate any of this, you know?" Carla began, just in case the younger woman thought she'd been in on it. "I was happy enough to stay well out of your way."

"Yeah I bet you were—" Michelle started, and Carla was about to argue her case, until she added. "Happy enough."

The comment still caused her to bristle.

"You were the one who fell out with me! You ordered me out of your life!"

"Yes and why was that, ey?" Michelle span around, their eyes meeting again. Carla opened her mouth, but couldn't formulate a response. It was awkward again, part of her wanting to tear her eyes away from the hazel ones that bore blamefully into hers, but something was keeping her there. Instead, she opted for descending down a few of the steps and slumping onto the one above Michelle, setting her head in her hands with a heavy sigh.

"Why did you do it, Carla?" This time Michelle's voice was soft, her tone non accusatory and it came as a surprise to the other woman, who, to her horror, felt moisture beginning to prick the backs of her eyelids. She forced them back, blinking rapidly. The question hung in the air, surrounded by the tension that had been pressing down on them from the start. Although unsure that it was just because they were getting used to it, or whether it was wishful thinking, Carla felt like it wasn't as heavy as it should have been, especially considering the circumstances. The silence stretched out. She picked up a loose piece of stone that must have chipped off the step at some point and scratched it along the hard granite, a white line appearing against the dirtied grey.

"I don't know. I really don't." Carla eventually spoke out, her voice just as soft as Michelle's had been. It cut delicately through the quiet. "I just— I think I just missed you. I _really_ missed you, okay? We'd not spoken for weeks and I genuinely think it drove me mad." It was the best answer she could give, she'd sat and wracked her brains over it night after sleepless night, not one single day had passed since she hadn't torn herself up over what she'd done. The most frustrating part was she still didn't truly understand why, the confusion had been eating at her just as much as the guilt. This seemed closest to what had to be the most likely reason. It wasn't like there was another explanation. There couldn't have been. "I hate falling out with you, it always seems like the end of the world and you're such a stubborn mare." Carla dared to input, though there was the beginnings of a smile trying to tug at the corners of her mouth.

Michelle was watching her again, eyebrows raised and the tiniest spark of amusement glinting in her eyes, reflecting the light from the tiny square window that was situated in the dim room.

"You're not exactly very surrendering yourself." The younger woman shot back, though placed her hands behind her and pushed herself up onto the step beside Carla. They turned to face one another properly, the older brunette still refraining from reaching out and touching Michelle in any way.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out, 'Chelle. I freaked myself out, too." She sighed gently, tilting her head slightly, her eyes softening with the sincerity of her words. "Can we just try to forget about my moment of madness?" Carla seemed to stop and reconsider the words. "Well, not forget but try to move past it?"

Michelle held her gaze, taking in the way even the tiniest fragment of dull light through the grimy cellar window picked out the green in them, the way her lips were pulled into an imploring pout as she waited anxiously for her response. She found her eyes had drifted there of their own accord and she pressed her own together slightly. Sometimes she could still remember just how soft Carla's had been against hers, but it wasn't a place she allowed her mind to linger too often. The dense, dusty air around them suddenly seeming stifling.

"Michelle?"

The younger woman jumped, blinked her thoughts away and opened her mouth, frantically searching for a response to the question she had momentarily forgotten Carla had asked.

"Uh— Kate. She said you were stressed." She remembered, grasping into the first safe thought to surface at the front of her brain, though guiltily realised that she'd more than likely been a cause of this. "You went dizzy, she said, in the back room. Are you okay? You are taking care of yourself?"

Even though the change of subject had been jarring, Carla found she didn't really need a solid answer, because the way Michelle's eyes bore into her own, wide with concern and full of care, that's all she needed to know.

"Oh, you know how it gets in the factory," Carla shrugged, not wanting to drag up any more of her own issues when they were only just starting to get back on track. "Things have been pretty full on and Nick's decided to go full on monopoly and buy that ridiculous hair salon, so he hasn't been about much to help." She pushed her hair back, letting out a gentle sigh. It was nice, being able to vent to her again, but that wasn't what she wanted to pile on her. "Sorry, I don't want to rant at you—"

"You're not, you're talking to me." Michelle assured her, daring to shuffle closer to her, until their thighs pressed together and she was able to rest her hand on her knee. Carla felt herself tense automatically, uncertain to the reason but feeling like this might just be too good to be true. After resigning herself to spending the rest of her days without her best friend, she guessed she was still worried something was about to go wrong. She kept expecting the caring smile to slide from the younger woman's face and be replaced by disgust, like _that_ night.

"You need to make sure you look after yourself, make sure you're eating. You still remember to take your medication don't you?" Michelle continued to stress and despite herself, Carla couldn't help the smile that stretched across her face.

"Yeah, of course I do. Don't worry—"

"Well I do. I have been. Even though I've been a cow. God, I really have as well. I'm sorry too, Carla." She sighed, sliding her hand from her knee and instead grabbing both of hers in her own, clasping them together.

Carla squeezed them just as tightly, hanging onto her, already feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from her chest, almost as though she could feel the calm that the other woman brought seeping into her bones, releasing the strain from her muscles, winding itself around the wall she'd had to construct around her heart.

"You know if you're snowed under with the factory, if you need any help at all, you can ask me. I don't mind."

"'Chelle," Carla exhaled, touched at her offer. She was cautious in her movements, but moved down and allowed her head to rest against Michelle's shoulder, a warmth flowing through her despite the chill in the cellar when the younger woman automatically leant into her. "Thank you, but I'll honestly be fine. I don't want you add anymore pressure on you. Not when you finally seem so happy with— with Robert." Her breath hitched slightly, but she covered quickly. "Not that I'm prying or anything, it's just Kate mentioned you'd been arguing a lot. Are _you_ okay?"

She didn't answer for a moment and Carla thought she'd maybe overstepped the line. "Sorry, sorry it's none of my— _Michelle?"_ After lifting her head from the younger brunette's shoulder to apologise, she was startled to see Michelle's eyes brimming with tears.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Come here." Forgetting any rule she'd set herself about being cautious with physical boundaries, for reasons that she hadn't even started to understand herself, she held out her arms and waited for Michelle to lean into them, securing them around her waist. "Oh you're shaking, darling. Come on, it's okay, whatever it is we can work it out."

But Michelle just shook her head, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she clutched onto her, letting out a quiet little sob. "No we can't, because it's not going to work. It's not going to work anymore."

"What won't work? You're scaring me now." She rubbed her hands lightly over her back, trying to generate an ounce of warmth between them, though she wasn't entirely sure that's why Michelle was shivering.

"Me and—and Robert. We're not going to work. And how can I tell him? I don't know how—"

"Okay, okay," Carla soothed her gently beginning to rock her. "Calm down and explain to me what you mean. Take your time."

It took a few moments for Michelle to regain the ability to speak again, but Carla was patient, allowed her the time she needed. She continued to hold her, stroking over her hair but refraining entirely from kissing the top of her head.

"I thought I was pregnant." The words are muffled against her chest and she didn't think she'd heard them properly for a moment. Pulling back slightly, she glanced at Michelle's tearful face, waiting for more information. "And he was so excited. But I just—I felt sick." She confessed, finally able to get off what had been building inside her for weeks. Every smile she'd painted on, trying to plaster over the inevitable, the tiny crack in her relationship that had grown so much it was beyond repair, too close splitting point. "I took a test and I found out I wasn't. I saw the disappointment on his face."

"But you could try again, couldn't you?" Carla asked, ignoring the sinking feeling that settled like a brick in her stomach. "It doesn't mean the end."

The younger woman shook her head, closing her eyes as more tears fell down her face. Carla raised her hands, about to cup her face, brush the tears away but seemed to thing the better of it and allowed her hands to fall back into her lap, the edge of her fingers just touching Michelle's.

"I was relieved, Carla." She whispered, her brow creased with hurt. Her eyes still hadn't opened but more tears, dulled grey as they took the mascara from her lashes, streamed down her cheeks. "For those few days, I was so paranoid. The way I laid, what I wore, every twinge I imagined, I was so scared. I was terrified I was going to do something wrong. I could barely eat I was so sick with worry." She opened her eyes and they were instantly met with Carla's, whose own were glistening as she listened. She didn't try to speak, just nudged their hands together until Michelle's fingers tangled with hers.

"I think about him all the time, every day." Michelle choked, her breath rumbling in her tightening chest. "I blame myself, I feel so guilty. I just keep thinking I did something wrong."

Carla have a small nod, her own tears escaping but she didn't wipe them away, she didn't want to let go of the younger woman's hand.

"I— I understand, 'Chelle. I _really_ do."

Michelle's expression softened, her head tilting and she tried hard to clear her vision, but only succeeded in sending more tears cascading down her cheeks. She _did_ know.

"Carla," she breathed, speaking her name so delicately, hazel hues clouded with empathy. The older woman offered her a tiny, saddened smile in return, before sniffing and taking a calming breath, expertly composing herself in a way that Michelle still admired.

"You need to tell Robert all of this, darling. He'll understand."

Michelle shook her head, using her free hand to brush at her cheeks, as pointless as the actions were because her next words caused more tears to replace the ones now hanging on the backs of her fingertips.

"I can't hold him back. He really wants to be a dad, Carla. I'm not taking that from him. I think— I think it's the end. It has to be."

Carla swallowed painfully as the other woman's body was wracked with sobs once more and she automatically pulled her back in, allowing Michelle to collapse against her. It pained her, seeing her so hurt, knowing she'd been keeping everything bottled up like she had. No wonder the younger woman had been picking rows, reacted the way she had when Carla had done... _that._ She'd given her something else to dwell on, something else to overthink and worry over. Well, she could make up for it now. She continued to sway her in their embrace, whispering comfortingly to her, murmuring reassurances.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry you've been carrying this around for so long. I'm sorry I made it so that you couldn't come to me." Carla spoke softly when Michelle had finally calmed down enough to be able to hear her.

Michelle looked up, bewildered, shaking her head as she dipped in, lightly touching their foreheads together. Carla jumped, her movements had been sudden and she wasn't expecting to be in such close proximity with her so abruptly. A jolt of fear ran down her spine and she froze for a moment, not even breathing, wondering exactly what she was supposed to do. But then Michelle's thumb brushed against her cheek and she let out the breath she'd been holding in a soft sigh, relief flooding through her. Of course this was okay, this was more than okay. Michelle wanted to be this close to her again, Michelle _trusted_ her enough to be this close. And it felt right, the gentle rush of warmth each time her breath radiated against her skin. She let her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the quiet, enjoying the moment.

"Don't apologise, it wasn't your fault." Michelle murmured, her voice slightly hoarse from crying. It was gravelly against her throat but warm against Carla's face, who still hadn't opened her eyes. The cold tip of Michelle's nose gently nuzzled into her own and she just wanted to freeze time, stay in that exact moment and live in it for so much longer.

A loud, abrupt creak split the silence, followed by a heavy bang as the handle was turned and the cellar door thrown open.

"Right you can both come out now, because dad says health and safety will have a field day if you both catch hypothermia!" Kate's voice echoed down harshly, disrupting the peace and causing them to jump back from one another sharply. For one, horrifying second Carla though Michelle was going to kick off again, but when the younger woman stood up, she offered out her hand to help her to her feet.

"Thank you," Carla smiled, letting go of her hand and gesturing for her to go first.

"I'm the one who needs to be thanking you."

The warmth of the pub was welcoming after being down in the chilly cellar for so long and Kate looked slightly sheepish as they both emerged. Her face soon fell when she saw the tear tracks on Michelle's cheeks, clearly under the impression that she'd somehow made it worse. Deciding the let Kate and the rest of them strew a little longer, Carla strode on a few paces past the bar, before turning to face Michelle.

"Go and speak to him. Whatever happens, it'll be okay." She nodded, reaching out for Michelle's hands as she spoke, taking hold of them gently and squeezing them reassuringly in her own. "Call me to let me know how it goes and if you need me, if you want to see me, then I'll be there straight away."

Michelle's smile was determined but watery, having resigned herself to her fate. But she thought maybe it wouldn't be completely unbearable, not if she had Carla and her family by her side. Stepping forward, she pulled the other woman into a final hug, resting her chin on her shoulder. She wished she didn't have to leave at all, didn't have to go and make the hard decisions. All she wanted was to stay wrapped up in the comfort that Carla provided.

"Go on," She whispered, reluctantly letting her go. Her heart was racing in her chest as she watched Michelle disappear through the doors, ready to go and either make the best or worst decision of her life. Carla ached at the thought of what she was going to have to go through. She deserved to be happy, she deserved it more than most.

Feeling eyes boring into the back of her, she suddenly felt a smirk twitch across her lips which she hid quickly on spinning around, her eyebrow raised, throwing a glowering scowl at Kate, who had joined Rana, Imran and Toyah at their table. She eye'd them all in the same disapproving way, flickering across to Johnny and Jenny who looked sheepish.

"I know you were all in on this." She pointed at them all warningly, stomping across to the bar and slapping her hands down onto the surface. "And I think I deserve a very large red wine."

Jenny hastened to bring it, grabbing a glass from the bar and plucking one of the more expensive bottles.

"And," Carla continued, unzipping her bag and pulling out her purse, unable to keep up the pretence any longer as her expression softened, a smile breaking across her face. "Whatever you lot are having as well. This round is on me."

 **IXIXIXI**

Johnny let out a sympathetic sigh, offering Michelle a gentle smile as she appeared. He wasn't sure he'd seen a sorrier sight, watching her lug her suitcase, her eyes pink, make-up cried away. Instantly he went to offer his help, taking her case and stacking it nearly against the banister.

"Oh, love. I am sorry." He sighed, offering her a hug which she accepted gratefully.

"Thanks for this, Johnny. I don't mean to put on you like this." She sniffed, her voice thick with tears when she pulled away, quickly swiping beneath her cheeks.

"Hey it's no bother, the more the merrier." He assured her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You're sure the lads don't mind sharing? It's just with Carla here as well, well she can hardly top and tail with me and Jenny!" He attempted to joke and Michelle managed the slight beginnings of a smile.

Carla had asked Johnny to stay right after she'd jokingly berated them all for interfering with her life. Her eyes hadn't quite met Johnny's when she'd given the excuse that she was working late and every evening disturbed Roy when she came home, who had the cafe to open early on. She couldn't bring herself to reveal the real reason and it wasn't without guilt that she was lying to Johnny about why Roy no longer wanted to live with her, but he'd agreed and let that be the end of it.

"Hey are my ears burning? Johnny have you heard from 'Chelle? I've been text—" There was a voice from the top of the stairs, the soft pad of slipper clad footsteps descending down the carpeted steps. Carla appeared in a pair of dark pyjamas decorated with white spots, a cosy black dressing gown draped over her shoulders. Her hair was damp, falling in waves around her face, which dropped at the sight of Michelle, along with the sentence she'd been forming. Clocking the suitcase Johnny had propped out of the way and the younger brunettes swollen eyes, she felt weight settle in her heart.

"Oh God, 'Chelle," She whispered, the devastation evident in her tone, across her features, genuinely heartbroken for her friend. Michelle's lower lip trembled and her gaze became glassy, prompting Carla to automatically hold out her arms. "Baby, come here. Come here, it's okay."

She didn't need asking a second time. Michelle slid her bag from her shoulder and let herself fall into Carla's hold, releasing a sob against her shoulder. The look of relief on Johnny's face might have made the older brunette smile if it wasn't for the fact her best friends world was falling apart; clearly he'd have been out of his depth and was eternally grateful that the two women were friends again.

Allowing Carla to pull her through to the back room, she slumped onto the sofa beside her, wedged firmly against her side.

"Where are Ryan and Ali?" Carla asked, carefully brushing her tears away with her fingertips.

"They're just getting some of their things together and saying— saying bye." Her breath hitched, words catching in her throat and her face crumpled once more.

"Hey, shh," the other woman whispered, bringing her head against her shoulder once more.

She felt it was better to let her cry it out and after hovering awkwardly by them for a moment, Johnny had decided to head through into the kitchen to flick the kettle on to make them all a drink. There was a scuffle from the bar and two voices sounded from the eerie quiet that settled within the place after lock-up.

"Mind what you're doing, you nearly took the skin off my ankles!" Ali hissed, a thud sounding out as he kicked the side of Ryan's case.

"I'll take your head off your shoulders if you don't stop chelping, you big drink of water."

"Alright, lads?" Johnny had dashed in through to stop the impending argument and nodded towards them. "Come on, I was taking your mum's case up I'll show you where you're staying."

They had to step aside to make room for Jenny, who had appeared in her own dressing gown, greeting them happily while nodding at Johnny, who had asked if she wouldn't mind finishing off the drinks. It was going to be a full house, but there was part of him that really didn't mind his family being under one roof.

"Oh, look at that," she sighed in a sickeningly sweet tone, her head tilting to the side in sympathy at the sight of Michelle's teary face. She was tucked up firmly into Carla, who had her cheek resting atop of her head, lightly stroking through her hair. "Well, I'm glad you two have made up at the very least."

 **IXIXIXI**

"Go on, I'll have another." Robert slurred, slamming his empty pint glass onto the bar as Johnny and Jenny exchanged weary glances with one another. "And a whiskey chaser."

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Is this, or is this not, a public house?" He snapped, rummaging around in his pocket and pulling out a crumpled note, slapping that down next to his glass. "It's not like I've anywhere to be, is it? Not now I've not got a business to run. She made sure she swindled that from me." Robert continued to seethe, not bothering to keep his voice down. Not that there were many people to bother, it was barely three in the afternoon, the dinner rush was over and most people were getting back on with the working day or enjoying a quieter pint with the paper.

"Where's the other one?" He suddenly demanded, leaving the landlord and lady baffled.

"Carla!" The chef huffed, as though it should have been obvious. "Been filling her head with all sorts. I should have known. Funny that, they make up and suddenly I'm not good enough. But my business is." He spat, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Those two always come up smelling of roses, don't they? Inheritance or marrying into—"

"Oi!" Johnny fired, cutting his rant short. "I don't know what you're trying to insinuate about my family, but I won't have you do it on my property." His tone was stern, but he had a heart and it dropped to a more gentle tone. "Look, I know you're hurting, but drink isn't the answer. Go home. Go home and sober up, ey?"

 **IXIXIXI**

Michelle was sat at an empty table in the Bistro, waiting for Carla to show up. It was one of her fitful attempts in making sure that the factory boss took her breaks and had something to eat. She could feel Robert's gaze burning into the back of her head. In the days that had passed since their break up, he'd decided that he was still going to work there, regardless of what happened and insisted if Michelle didn't like it, she knew what to do.

Never one for backing down easily and with just as much right to be there as him, Michelle had stood her ground and they were now carrying on regardless, making everything ten times more painful for their poor staff in the process. In fact, as though to prove her point, Michelle had showed up earlier than planned for her lunch date and was already on her third glass of wine, sat back looking relaxed as she scanned the relatively empty restaurant. Kate had spent so much time around the pair of them being silent that she thought her voice would die out from lack of use. She was flickering her gaze between them even now, while running a cloth over a spotless table.

"Second's out. Or thirds. Or... what number are we on?" Daniel whispered in her ear as he passed, nodding towards where one of their bosses was knocking back her drink, causing Kate to sigh in exasperation.

"I've lost count." She murmured, smiling up in greeting as the door opened and Carla appeared.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." She apologised, leaning down to give Michelle a quick hug before taking a seat opposite her. Their hands stretched along the table and it was Michelle's whose came to rest over Carla's first. "I couldn't get off the phone, one of those days where no one seems to understand a word. How're you doing?"

Michelle took in the slight peakiness to her face, the shadows beneath her eyes. It had taken to living with Carla once more to see just how little time she was spending at home. In the days that had followed her break-up, she'd yet to see the other woman sit down. By the time Michelle had come down for breakfast Carla had been just leaving, or already gone, and didn't often return until the bar had long closed, where she'd say a quick goodnight and then head off to bed. She must have been exhausted.

"I'm getting there." The younger brunette nodded, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. "But what about you? Carla, you look done in."

"Cheers. How many of those have you thrown down your neck?" Carla frowned, pointing to the bottle beside her. Michelle reached for it and signalled for Kate to bring her another glass, but Carla held up her hand.

"No, I'm fine thanks. I'll just have a lime and soda, please." She turned back to her friend who was watching her with a frown. "What? I have to get back to work after this."

"What? You've been going flat out all week!"

"I've had a lot on."

"Carla," Michelle's softened her tone, reaching for her hand again and linking their fingers together, concern mounting on her features. "You really do look like you could use a break."

The older brunette let out a sigh, considering spilling all and telling Michelle exactly how much trouble the factory was in, how much she couldn't afford to take a break. How she needed to continue production somewhere else because the roof needed fixing and she couldn't afford to close the factory otherwise she wouldn't be able to pay the builders, but she couldn't get the roof mended until she had the money and on top of that she had the staff to think about. The thoughts collected in her head and it must have shown on her face because Michelle had suddenly scooted her chair forward and used her other hand to push Carla's hair behind her ear, when the other woman had dropped her head forward and closed her eyes, a shaking sigh escaping her mouth. She looked ready to burst into tears.

"Carla, hey—"

The slam of a drink being placed forcefully between them caused the pair to jump, splashes of liquid falling across their entwined hands.

"Robert!" Michelle snapped, grabbing a napkin and dabbing up the mess. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Just giving you what you asked for." He fired right back, dropping two menu's carelessly into the middle, sloshing the water that Michelle hadn't managed to dab up.

"You're so childish."

Michelle threw an apologetic glance at Carla, piling the soaked menu's out of the way.

"Sorry, he shouldn't be taking it out on you."

Maybe the Bistro hadn't been the best place to suggest coming for lunch, but thankfully after his abrupt service, Robert had disappeared into the kitchen and left them to it. Kate and Daniel made for a much better dining experience and Carla was actually just beginning to forget the stress of the factory, how late it was getting and how long of a lunch it was turning out to be. She was enjoying laughing with Michelle, reminiscing about lighter times and the excitement of Kate's upcoming wedding— the youngest Connor kept dipping in and out of their conversation.

"Oh come on, have dessert. Spoil yourself." Michelle pushed, giving the back of her hand a gentle poke. In the time they'd spent together, she'd somehow managed to put away the rest of the bottle and her cheeks were glowing pink.

"I don't know, it's getting late." She protested, though had an inkling she wouldn't take much more persuading.

"Please? Or at least share mine, make me feel less guil—"

"Can I have a word?"

Michelle whipped around at the unwelcome intrusion, the smile sliding off her face in an instant, replaced by a deep scowl.

"We're busy."

"Look I'm sorry for interrupting—"

"Get lost and you won't have anything to be sorry for." She shrugged.

"Michelle!" Carla hissed, glancing up at Peter apologetically. "Will it take long?"

At the question, he shook his head and had the audacity to join them at the table, ignoring the dangerous flash of anger in Michelle's eyes.

"No, it's about the boat. Of sorts."

Carla's stomach flipped nervously, wondering what it was exactly that he was about to spill about the boat fire in public, in front of Michelle. Knowing she was about to get hell for it, she turned to the younger woman, trying to shuffle her expression into one that made it seem as though what she was about to ask was a total chore.

"'Chelle, would you mind? Just two minutes, yeah? Go up and order me the same as what you're having. I'll pay."

Michelle felt the twinge of resentment that she knew she had no right to feel. She had to work hard to keep her facial features under control, the muscles in her cheek twitching at the effort. Even then, her jaw clenched and she shot Carla's ex-husband a scathing look, before vacating her seat and walking the few metres to the bar. She was joined by Kate, who looked curiously over to where her sister and Peter were talking.

"Cosy." She murmured, causing Michelle's head to fly around.

"What?"

Kate looked taken aback at her abrupt manner, though refrained from commenting when Robert sidled up to them. Michelle didn't to feel like they were both ganging up on her.

"Ah, has he ruined your lunch date?" Robert smirked, looking gleeful as he shook his head in mock sympathy. "That's a pity."

"Shut your face." Michelle retorted bluntly, too interested in overhearing whatever it was that Peter had to say to Carla to bother coming up with anything more witty.

Peter shuffled closer to her, a warm smile across his face, trying to meet her gaze as he informed Carla gently.

"So... If it all works out, it looks like I'll be getting another boat."

"Oh—right. Well, that's good?" Carla nodded, though was unsure why it was relevant to her. He continued to watch her, looking hesitant to reveal the next part of his plan.

"Well, I'll be leaving." Peter pressed, trying to weigh up the expression on her face.

Carla herself didn't know how she was supposed to be reacting. Her inner turmoil must have shown because a frown knitted her brow together and she jumped at the touch of Peter's rough hands wrapping around her own.

"Well that's what I bought you the first one for," The brunette shrugged, though felt oddly guilty at the disappointment that flickered across his features.

"Right, yeah." He nodded, dropping her hands and standing up. "Sorry I—I promised Simon I'd take him for pizza."

"Peter—" Carla began, inwardly groaning at how utterly awkward it felt. He'd not chosen the best moment to come and speak to her and if he was going, she at least wanted them to part on amicable terms.

But he'd already turned to Robert, giving him a small nod. "Sorry, mate." He gestured between the chef and Michelle, who was still glaring at him. "I hope you can work things out."

"Since when was he your mate?" Michelle snarled, blinking slightly so that his face slipped back into focus. Perhaps the meal hadn't been quite substantial enough to soak up the amount of alcohol she'd managed to put away.

"Michelle, I know you're hurt—"

"You don't know anything, just stay out of my business."

It seemed he had more brain cells than she'd given him credit for, because he decided to give up trying to placate her and nodded to Robert, before turning back to Carla, making sure she had his attention.

"I'll be going on Wednesday," he spoke pointedly and no sooner were the words out of his mouth, an incredulous scoff sounded from Michelle.

"Look this isn't terminal two, Manchester, you don't have to announce your departure!" She suddenly bit out, irked at his presence. "So why don't you jump into your flaky little dingy and disappear into the Bermuda Triangle, Captain _Daft_ Sparrow."

Carla's mouth fell open, her eyes wide at the unexpected outburst from her friend. Peter looked taken aback and there was a sour look on Robert's face. Kate and Daniel exchanged bewildered glances, the latter had shuffled over at Michelle's outburst and was looking as though he wanted to be amused at her comment, but loyal to Peter at the same time.

"Michelle! Don't speak to _my_ customers like that." Robert dared to bark at her, which caused her eyes to flash with anger, before closing in utter irritation. She didn't even put her efforts into turning to face him, merely jabbed her thumb over her shoulder and spoke again to Peter. "And take _Kitchen Nightmare_ along with you, if you like."

"That's enough!" The chef fumed, coming around from his side of the bar and stalking up to her. "This was your decision, not mine. Don't come in here, get half cut and take it out on me and everyone else. If you can't be civil, then I'd like you to leave."

"Are you serious? I own this place too!"

"This is my Bistro and you're not on shift, so you can leave of your own accord or—"

"Or what?" Michelle laughed, folding her arms and staring him out defiantly. "You'll throw me out?"

"'Chelle," A softer voice reached out to her this time and she turned to see Carla, her hand held out towards her. "Listen darling, go back to the Rovers, sleep off the drink and calm down, ey? I don't want you doing anything you regret."

Michelle felt terrible. She'd invited Carla for dinner to take her mind off the stress and she'd most likely created a whole lot more for her to handle.

"Carla, I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, it's fine," the other woman reassured her, moving forward and loosely sliding her arms around the younger woman's waist, which seemed to ground her, calm her frenzied breathing. "Just go home and as soon as I've done at the factory, I'll come back."

Nodding, Michelle glanced over her shoulder to where Peter still hadn't left despite having got up to do so far too long ago for her liking. He didn't have any reason to be hovering.

"You don't look done in, by the way." Michelle suddenly commented, desperately, out of nowhere. She wasn't even sure where it had come from herself. All she knew for certain was that as soon as Carla had walked in, she'd all but insulted her appearance and then proceeded to fight with everyone who'd got in their way. Her eyes dropped for a moment to scan her outfit, the knee length black skirt, pale blue chiffon shirt tucked into it, the dark blazer fitted to her shoulders. It was the sort of thing she'd adorn whenever there were meetings to be had, deals to be sealed and usually she got them. "You look lovely."

Carla's own eyes narrowed, her head dipping so she could give Michelle a once over, checking she was alright after the uncharacteristic comment that had seemingly spurred from nowhere. "Chelle, go home and sober up."

It was like she suddenly realised half of the Bistro's eyes were fixated on her. Jumping in shock and flying to her senses, she quickly grabbed her bag and was out of the building in such a whir that she'd practically created a draft, Carla was sure it had ruffled her hair. She turned to Kate, gesturing towards the exit the younger woman had disappeared through.

"Was it just one bottle she had?"

Her sister nodded and Carla rummaged in her purse, placing a few notes down on the bar to pay for the meal they'd just had. "I've go to get back to the factory."

Kate was still looking as confused as the rest of them, watching Peter follow after Carla and forgetting for a second about who exactly it was she'd turned to when she spoke again.

"That was weird. It wasn't just me, was it? It was weird."

Robert had been watching the exchange with clenched teeth, the cogs turning in his brain, fist clenched around the stack of money that he'd snatched from the bar, crumpling the crisp notes in his crushing grip. He let out a harsh exhale through his nose, banging the till open and throwing the money in, before slamming it shut again.

"Looked crystal clear to me." Was all he growled, turning away from his staff and storming through to the kitchen.

 **IXIXIXI**

Carla stepped out of the factory, locking the door behind her and rummaging one handed in her bag to stow the keys away. She was clutching a stack of files in her other arm, making her way down the steps without paying too much attention to her surroundings. It was dark, late and freezing cold. She was thinking longingly of making herself a hot drink while she looked over the files and there was a possible chance that she might end up in bed before it hit the early hours.

A whir of a silhouette blocked the streetlight in her peripheral vision and a blunt force struck her, causing her to drop the folder she was carrying, sheets of paper spilling all over the cobbles, carefully constructed graphs and details about upcoming orders, starting to flap in the gentle breeze.

"Watch it!" Carla cried out, glancing up to see Robert glaring down at her and the fear that had spiked through when an unknown force had first barrelled into her didn't automatically drain away even at the appearance of a familiar face.

"No, Carla. _You're_ the one who needs to watch it." He muttered darkly, fixing her with a threatening glare before stalking away.

Her mouth fell open in confusion, a ripple of anxiety rolling down her spine. She breathed in the icy air and crouched down, starting to scrape together the sheets that were now dirtied and ruined and would need reprinting. It was something that would have to wait until the next day.

She tried to be quiet as she crept through into the back room of the Rovers Return, deciding she didn't have the energy to make a drink and instead dumped her work onto the table and began to make her way upstairs. The place really was eerie at night, she decided, glancing uncertainly over her shoulder as she climbed. Robert's threat was still ringing in her ears and she was so wound up in trying to work out what the hell she'd done to him that she didn't see the figure on the landing until she'd almost ended up in her second collision of the night.

"God, Michelle!" She scolded, placing her hand over her heart. "Why are you creeping about in the dark?"

"I just came from the bathroom. That allowed?" Her tone was hard and it confused Carla.

"What's wrong?"

"Where the hell have you been? You said you'd be back!"

"I've been at the factory." Carla hissed, folding her arms across her chest. "I didn't realise I had a curfew, mum."

Michelle shook her head, her eyes darkening with the first signs of anger. "You've been with _him_ haven't you."

"No, I've had meetings!" Carla bristled at the accusation.

"What kind of meetings require you to stay at work until midnight?"

 _International,_ Carla thought to herself, but she couldn't tell Michelle that.

"I knew it." Michelle had taken her silence as confirmation.

Carla let out a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She didn't have it in her for another argument, not tonight.

"I don't get why you're so drawn to him. What exactly is it?"

" _I haven't—"_ Carla broke off, lowering her voice which had tore from her throat in an angered shout at Michelle's refusal to listen. "I haven't been with Peter!" She insisted, back down to a whisper but just as defiant.

"I don't understand why you don't want better for yourself." Michelle's arms were folded, mirroring Carla's stance, a look of disbelief and disapproval on her features and it infuriated the older woman.

Carla scoffed in disbelief, taking a step closer to the the younger woman, her eyes narrowing.

"Do you know what I don't understand, Michelle?" She growled, fury getting the better of her. It was the same argument, again and again and it was driving her insane. "What business it is of yours what I do? Why are _you_ so bothered? Do you not want me to be happy or something, is that it?"

" _What?"_ Michelle gasped, her mouth falling open. She could hardly believe that Carla would even suggest that. "You don't think I want you happy? Are you for real?"

"Well you didn't care when you were with Robert, did you? When you were _flaunting_ him in front of me—"

"Flaunting?!"

"—yes, Michelle. You knew what you were doing. Don't dare deny it. So it's okay for you to get on with your life any way you see fit, but I have to have your approval? Are you so _controlling—"_

The word stung Michelle, whose arms dropped from the tense stance she'd been knotted up in, falling to her sides. It was cold, the silky pyjama short set she had on provided her with no warmth, something she hadn't needed before the heating had been turned off for the evening. She felt every part of the breeze against her skin when Carla abruptly moved nearer to her, their eyes locking as she searched Michelle's demandingly for answers.

"Of course I'm not trying to control you! I would never do that. I just want— I want—" She stammered, suddenly unable to find the right words with the other woman's face in such close proximity to hers, her angered breath delivering the only ounce of warmth between them. Her heart was thudding so rapidly, the air around her seemed too thick to breathe in.

"What? You want what? Tell me Michelle because I'm struggling here!" Carla pressed frantically, never removing her eyes from he other woman's. She could feel the pressure in her chest, her head starting to fizz with the pulse of blood that throbbed there, her heart rate haywire with anger, confusion and something that she was so desperately trying to force down, because she didn't think their fragile friendship could survive much more and the thought sent crippling fear burning down the back of her neck.

"Carla you could have anyone—"

She cut Michelle off with a cry of frustration, her hands moving to grasp hold of the younger woman's shoulders, surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of her frustration. " _I don't want just any—"_

And then they were kissing. So fiercely that her mind had gone blank but it didn't matter, because her lips were responding of their own accord, responding just as frantically. Michelle's mouth had slammed into her own with an intensity that knocked the wind from her, before she'd had a chance to complete the sentence. Her hands gripped the back of her head, pulling her closer, Carla's own fisting into the silk of her pyjama top to keep her right there.

It was all she'd thought about, from the second she'd torn her mouth away from Carla's the very first time she'd tried to kiss her. As much as she'd tried to block out the memory, the softness of the other woman's mouth against her own had invaded her mind far too often for her to be able to stamp out, had awakened something in her that had terrified her and the more she'd attempted to block it, the more ferocious the memory had become. Michelle was walking them both backwards now, until her back pressed against the wall and Carla pushed further into her, still attacking her lips with vigour.

She was relentless, working her mouth furiously against Michelle's, putting every ounce of herself into the kiss, because it might be her only chance. Neither of them were pretending they knew exactly what this was. The younger woman's nails scraped lightly against her scalp and she let out a gasp, shockwaves of pleasure causing goosebumps to erupt along her arms. It was then she noticed Michelle's lips had frozen against her parted ones. She attempted to pull back, just a fraction, but Michelle followed her, hand falling to her cheek. Her next move was so hesitant, it almost brought them back down to Earth. Almost. The first brush of her tongue against Carla's caused the older brunette to groan deeply into her mouth and it was that noise breaking the silence that seemed to bring Carla to her senses somewhat. They were out on the landing, in full view of anyone who may happen to open their own room door. Without breaking the kiss, she slid her hands to Michelle's hips, pulling them flush against her own and silencing the whimper from her by continuing to deepen the kiss. With one arm still wound around her waist, she moved them backwards, blindly reaching behind her until she'd grasped the door handle to one of their bedrooms. Michelle's, she realised, when they both stumbled through into it and the younger woman carelessly kicked it shut.

They continued to manoeuvre further into the room, the backs of Michelle's knees hitting the bed and she dropped down onto it, but not before she'd grabbed onto the lapels of Carla's blazer and pulled the other woman down onto her. The warm pressure of her body pressing hers down against the sheets caused a pulse of desire to ripple low in her stomach. It stunned her, but didn't stop her from pushing the jacket from Carla's shoulders and tangling her hands in her hair once more, indicating her need for more.

It was getting hard to think again, about what it meant, about why Michelle's hands, that were running over her body, were causing such an inflamed reaction. She bit down lightly on her lower lip and the cry that the action elicited from the younger woman caused her stomach to flip with need, a need to hear that sound again, a need to be the cause of that noise. Her head was still trying to throw up a million questions, still trying to fight the losing battle between sensible and how her body was reacting to the way Michelle's tongue teased around her own.

The younger woman's face fell, disappointment lasting for the half a second it took for Carla's mouth to reluctantly break away from her own and instead descend down her neck, relishing in each breathy whimper that Michelle released.

"I want you," the admission came in a tiny whisper, a tiny almost-afraid whisper that broke her rapid exhale, stopped the sound of lips being continuously scattered against her soft skin. Carla paused to look up at her, taking in the slightly bruised swelling of her lips, courtesy of their intense kisses, the way he eyes were half lidded with arousal, the artificial streetlight filtering in through the curtains highlighting her blown pupils. Carla wanted her too.

And that was the only thing that mattered. So she stopped questioning, stopped overthinking and allowed herself to succumb to what their bodies had already...

 **IXIXIXI**

It was the soft patter of rain against the window, that's what she thought had awakened her. Or half awakened her. Michelle didn't want to open her eyes. It was the best nights sleep she'd had for ages and it was so cosy underneath the duvet. She couldn't remember exactly what it was that she'd been dreaming about, she only knew it was a good one, one that had brought a smile to her lips as she held tighter onto the invitingly warm body pressed against her front. Surely it was too early to move? Her alarm hadn't gone off yet. She could hear the gentle breathing coming from the person beside her and, still dazed and slowly succumbing to the pull of sleep once more, she grazed her hand along a smooth stomach, toned but the skin silkier than she was expecting. The softer touch was appealing, very appealing beneath her wandering fingertips. Everything about this person was beguiling, her senses welcoming the delicate scent of coconut, a hint of almond and something floral with a musky undertone, like the lingering of expensive perfume. She breathed in deeply, finding the combination familiar and soothing. On the verge of sleep once more, her hand drifted further, comforting herself once more with the feel of dewy skin, the dainty ridges; _one...two...three_ she counted, her fingertips dipped into each one, gliding higher until they bumped over the swell—wait—

Her eyes flew wide open and she bolted up right, clapping her hand over her mouth to stop the cry of shock that never made it past her tongue, instead it was lodged somewhere at the back of her throat.

 _Oh God. What had she done? What had_ they _done?_

The duvet had fallen from her body and goosebumps erupted over her bare skin now that she'd torn herself from the heat she'd been so blissfully wrapped up in. Her previously steady heartbeat was now pounding relentlessly in her chest. She couldn't pull her eyes away from the sleeping figure, shaking her head in disbelief. The top half of a small frame only partially exposed by the duvet that she'd tugged away slightly after jolting out of bed, dark hair that was splayed across one pillow and half into hers, providing that comforting perfume that had very nearly lulled her back to sleep.

"Mm— 'Chelle, either you're in or out. It's bloody freezing." Carla's voice was a soft croak in the quiet, slurred and heavy with sleep. She seized hold of the corner of the duvet and pulled it over her shoulder, bundling herself up in it. From the sounds of her soft breathing, she'd fallen straight back to sleep after the interruption. Her movement of the blanket had exposed Michelle further and she glanced down at herself before quickly scrabbling for her pyjamas from the night before. They were crumpled on the rug by the bed, tangled up with what she realised was Carla's blouse. She threw them on in a blind panic, having to stop and rearrange her too when she realised she'd put it on backwards. Taking one last look at the sleeping woman, she pulled open her door and cautiously backed out.

"Morning!"

Michelle let out a squeak of surprise, whipping around to find Jenny smiling at her, clad in a dressing gown and fluffy slippers. She sounded far too cheery for this early on. The landlady must have misread Michelle's expression because her own fell into one that was slightly more sympathetic.

"Aw, love, did you not sleep very well? You look like you've been tossing and turning all night." She gestured to her hair, which was rumpled and hung in tangled tresses.

Michelle opened her mouth, but found the words wouldn't leave. Instead she clamped it shut against and forced out a nod, wondering if her chest was going to seize in her panic.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Yeah I'm just cutting it fine. Said I'd be at the Bistro early to oversee delivery." She garbled, it was the first coherent thought that had sprung to her head.

"Alright well I won't keep you, go have a shower and if you've time there'll be a brew waiting."

"Cheers, Jenny."

Michelle scurried along the landing pretty sharpish, bolting the bathroom door behind her as soon as she entered and falling back against the door, covering her face with her hands.

 _Okay, okay. Breathe. It's alright, it's fine. It was just— just—_

Just what? She didn't have the first clue as to what it was. Where it had come from. Turning in the shower just to give herself something to do, she barely noticed that it was slightly too hot as she stepped under the spray, the focusing on nothing but the hazy whiteness in front of her as the bathroom began to steam up.

 _Every single one of Carla's kisses felt like a tiny shock of electric, like she had her own current that caused her skin to spark with every brush of her lips. It was definitely charging her. Her eyes closed, a low hum escaping when the kisses became heavier, edging closer to her pulse point. Carla latched onto it, grazing the skin with her teeth before lathing it with her tongue, creating a suction with her lips that sent heat straight down to—_

Michelle screwed her eyes up tightly, trying to shake the thought away. There were goosebumps on her arms despite the heat of the shower. Her hand flew to press against her neck. It felt fine. She didn't know what she was expecting. It was hardly going to seem any different just because Carla's mouth had been there the night before.

She stayed in the shower for as long as she dared, until her skin was pink and she was sure she'd heard a faint tap on the door. Switching the water off, she cracked the window, allowing the steam to billow out and wrapped one of the many towels Jenny had laid out, to accommodate all of the extra guests, around herself, securing it firmly.

For a moment, when Michelle pulled the door open, she wondered if her mind had began to reminisce again, because Carla's face was suddenly looming in front of her, peaky with sleep but her green eyes were alert and to Michelle's amazement, a smile had even made its way across her features, showing off a full set of pearly white teeth. The upper two pulled slightly on her lower lip when her gaze dipped to take in the younger brunettes appearance, hair that was slick to her face, water heading off the ends of it and rolling into the crevices of her collarbone, sliding further down her chest before being absorbed my the top of the towel.

"Morning, you."

Maybe Michelle wouldn't ever be able to speak coherently again. Her brain was working extra hard to try and pluck a few words from her usually extensive vocabulary, but wasn't having any success. Carla's smile was replaced with uncertainty, her eyes narrowing.

"'Chelle? Are you... alright?"

"I— sorry I've got to— I'm really late." Without even meeting her eyes, Michelle pushed by the other woman and disappeared into her room so fast that Carla could have sworn she'd just performed some kind of magic act.

There was nothing magic about how heavily her heart sank, dread settling in her stomach, her limbs deadening to lead. Carla didn't know what she'd been expecting her reaction to be after the previous evening, but Michelle barley able to look at her had been far from the one she'd been hoping for.

 **IXIXIXI**

"Oh hiya," Jenny nodded to Kate, who had wandered into the Rovers carrying a large cardboard box, looking somewhat put out.

"Have those two fallen out again?" The young waitress frowned, dumping the box down onto the bar with a rattle. "I just tried to get Carla's opinion about wedding hair and she was right moody with me." She grimaced, looking to Johnny and Jenny for answers.

"No, not to my knowledge? Ooh, are these wedding things?" Jenny began, pouring over the box with enthusiasm as she began to pull open the lid.

Kate shook her head, stopping the landlady from prying and lowering her voice slightly. "It's the rest of Michelle's stuff. Robert asked me to bring it over. Well, I say asked." She bit out, bristling as she recalled the tone her boss had demanded she took it out of his sight. Michelle had slipped off early from her shift, pretty much as soon as Kate arrived and Robert hadn't stopped making digs about her cousin all afternoon. "But..." trailing off, she glanced around her again before dipping her hand into the box, pulling out a photo. It was one that had been situated in the flat when Michelle lived there, of herself and Carla. But the glass was splintered, the wooden edges around the frame split.

"Do you think Robert did that?" Johnny narrowed his eyes, not liking what he was hearing of the man's temper, especially if he was ordering his youngest around.

"I don't know, but Carla's fuming about something. That's why I asked if they'd fallen out."

"You don't think—Carla and Robert—" Johnny began, screwing his face up at the unlikelihood of the situation.

Kate shook her head, totally dismissing the idea. That wasn't it. Robert seemed to hate Carla just as much as Michelle these days. "No, he hasn't stopped going on about how Carla's the one who poisoned Michelle against him." Kate rolled her eyes as she briefed them on his increasingly petty behaviour.

They were silent again, trying to work out what could have potentially caused an uproar. Unbeknownst to them, Michelle had been on her way through after breaking from the Bistro in the back room and when she over heard Carla's name, she dropped back to eavesdrop.

"Well no they can't have fallen out!" Jenny suddenly remembered, clicking her fingers. "Carla stayed in with Michelle last night, the poor thing was in a state again."

Kate and Johnny snapped their heads to face her, waiting for her to continue.

"Well, I was up late because I couldn't sleep, thought I could hear something." She shrugged, the trio ignoring the fact that there were now punters at the bar waiting impatiently for service. "Anyway when I got onto the landing it sounded like someone was crying. I figured it was Michelle and I was going to offer her a brew but I heard Carla in there with her—"

There was a clatter and they all jumped around. Michelle cursed under her breath. In her blind panic to run in and shut them up, she'd knocked two boxes of crisps over that had been stacked up waiting to be brought through. "Sorry, sorry," She bustled, trying to stuff the errant packets back and pile them up again.

"Don't worry about that. Are you okay?" Johnny asked, trying to lend a hand but found Michelle had it under control.

"Yeah! Yeah I'm fine." She put on a smile that was far too bright, far too false. "Is that mine? I'll take it out of the way." Pointing at the box on the side, she clumsily stepped forward to grab at it, grasping it in her arms before hurrying out of sight.

The three watched her go, waited until the sound of her footsteps had disappeared upstairs before turning back to one another, Kate in apparent deep thought.

"Something is definitely going on."

 **IXIXIXI**

Carla was sat at her desk with her head in her hands. When she woke up that morning to an empty bed and Michelle's apparent disgust, she hadn't thought her day could get any worse. She shouldn't have even attempted to jinx it. After Nick had strolled in and gleefully announced to her entire workforce that she was outsourcing production, they'd down tools and headed off on strike. Hell was definitely a place on Earth and Carla was living it. Casting her mind back to the last time she didn't feel completely harassed, by ex's, by staff, by business partners, by managers and clients and builders, seemed impossible. When had she last felt completely okay? When had she woken up and felt like she'd slept properly? When had she last eaten something substantial enough to cure the headache that was never too far away from squeezing the base of her skull? The only time her worries had eased for a second and she felt like she was back to some kind of normality was when she'd been in the company of the one person who'd bolted from hers. It hurt, that she couldn't deny, couldn't push down no matter how hard she'd tried to. Her mind had drifted all morning, eyes glaring over as she read over countless emails and instead thought back to the night before. The way Michelle's fingertips had danced over her skin, how she'd pulled her in, like she craved more of her, like there was something _more_.

The creak of the factory door opening caused Carla to let out an audible groan and she prepared to summon up the energy for another showdown. The blinds were closed, so she braced herself for the knock that never came. Instead the office door swung open and her heart leapt when Michelle's panicked face came into view.

"Jenny heard us!" Her voice was high and fearful.

"What?"

"Jenny!" Michelle hissed, tangling her hands in her own hair. "She said she knew you'd stayed in with me, thought I'd been upset. Oh God, she knows. I know it. Everyone's going to know—"

"Michelle, just shut up for a second and calm down." Carla ordered, trying to piece together the garbled story the younger brunette was throwing at her. "Just explain to me without the hysterics." She didn't mean to sound harsh, or fed up, but she was mentally even more exhausted than she was physically. She listened as the other woman retold the conversation she'd overheard, frowning at the conclusion Michelle had jumped to.

"Well why does that mean she knows anything? It sounds like a reasonable enough explanation, not something to question." Carla shrugged, trying to work out why Michelle still looked so stricken.

"She said she _heard_ me crying." She wailed, her cheeks turning pink, head dropping into her hands.

"Well you were, of sorts." The factory boss dared to input, not knowing herself why she thought it was wise, or whether it was the right time to be joking even when her lips twitched like they wanted to smirk. Maybe she was just so deliriously tired, she didn't care.

"I split up with someone and then leapt straight into bed with someone else. Who does that? Who?" It sounded like she was asking herself, shaking her head in disbelief. Carla bristled slightly at her words.

"I am still here. You know, the person you went to bed with."

Michelle, who hadn't taken Carla's advice to sit down, started to pace the office. Her hands had dropped from her face to cover just her mouth. "This is a nightmare, a complete nightmare."

The words were muffled but the other brunette still caught them. She was panicking and probably didn't mean for them to sting the way they did but Carla still took offence, a scoff tearing from her lips.

"Cheers. You know maybe if you'd have put up this much of a complaint last night, we wouldn't be in this situation you so clearly despise."

Michelle shot her a look, but seemed to realise how crass her words had come across. Her expression turned apologetic and she finally sat down in the chair opposite Carla's, glancing awkwardly down at the desk surface. She ran her fingertip absentmindedly over the spare computer keyboard, scraping her nail against the keys.

"What was last night?" The tentative, loaded question was what she chose to break the silence with. Carla opened her mouth to reply before her brain had even considered the enormity of it.

"It was—different."

" _Different?"_ Michelle scoffed, standing up again, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to dive through the office window to make her escape.

"No! That's not what I— Look it was— it was _good,_ it was fun."

"What does that even mean?"

"Oh for god sake, I don't know!" Carla cried, her temper always so close to the surface these days. "I don't know Michelle, okay? And frankly, right now, I have got _so_ much more to worry about than your flippin' identity crisis—"

" _My_ identity crisis? How dare you—"

"No, how dare you? Thinking you can charge in here demanding answers from me when you were the one who took off this morning. How did you think that made me feel, ey? I'm supposed to be your _best friend."_

Michelle fell silent, pressing her lips together. Carla was right, it had been all on her terms. Everything. Even becoming friends again in the first place had been her decision though she was the one who'd walked away. She felt her stomach knot with discomfort, guilt.

"You're not the only one who is scared and confused." Carla's voice was so gentle, so raw in the quiet office, the admission hanging between them. Her green eyes seemed shinier, owing to the very beginnings of tears that began to prick just the corners of them. Michelle softened instantly and she weaved her body between the desks so she could get to Carla, crouching down and pulling her into a firm hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Michelle whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat as she brushed over her hair, breathing in the same scent that infiltrated her senses earlier that morning. She suddenly wished she could go back, wake up different, pull her closer and stay longer. It was different, it felt different whenever she was around her, just her. It was only when reality came barrelling back into them that she felt the panic.

Carla leant into her, soaking up the comfort. This was all she'd wanted, after having a day of betrayal from her supposed business partner, an onslaught of abuse from her staff, the mounting worry of them walking out and the unfinished order and the money she so desperately needed to get her hands on. The younger woman kissed the top of her head and she cautiously raised her chin, peering up at her. Michelle's expression was still soft when their eyes met, still sorry and caring. It was happening again. That same pull. Carla raised a hesitant hand to her cheek and she didn't object, didn't back away. She moved closer, her eyes on the verge of closing.

Angered footsteps stormed towards the office and the moment was torn from them. They flew apart quickly as the door banged open, Peter's sully expression making for an unwelcoming view.

"Ugh, what now?" Michelle was quick to grumble, though the fear from before was slowing seeping back to her again and her tone didn't have quite as much bite.

"Is it true you're outsourcing? That your staff have upped and left?"

"Sorry, what business is that of yours?" Carla stood up from her seat, folding her arms across her chest as she stared him down.

"Sinead relies on this place, her and Daniel have a baby, you know? What the hell are you playing at?" His tone wasn't snappy, but it wasn't exactly friendly either and from the corner of her eye, Carla couldn't already see Michelle stirring.

"I just told you, it's none of your business." She repeated, this time through clenched teeth. She could feel the anger rising and her fingertips itched towards the drawer where the bottle was kept. One that had come from Michelle, actually, though she highly doubted she'd approve. Not unless she was reaching for it to whack Peter around the head with. "I've not got time for this so—"

"Well, you're going to have to make time." He shrugged, placing both of his hands on her desk defiantly. "Why didn't you tell me? I couldn't have done something, I could have helped—"

"Oh could you? Could you really?" Carla suddenly found herself shouting, her fuse well and truly blown at this point. "Like when you cheated on me on our wedding day and slept with the babysitter, eh? Or like when you went behind my back and sold this place to my ex husband to get one over on me? Tell me how _you_ could be of any use to me!"

Peter looked as though he'd just been slapped in the face, he even careered back slightly from the force of her words, the sting of the truth which shouldn't have come as much of a revelation as it did. Maybe he thought they'd somehow managed to get past all of that. Clearly they hadn't.

"Oh don't look so wounded, does knowing how badly you screwed up hurt your feelings?" Michelle decided to input, surprised she'd managed to hold her tongue for so long. She'd felt like cheering when Carla had finally seemed to remember everything he'd done, but the older brunette turned to her and snapped.

"Michelle, _don't_ get involved."

"Oh, she can't help it." Peter sneered, throwing Michelle a look of contempt. "Your little laptop jumps at the chance for a bit of attention, despite the fact it's actually none of _her_ business either!"

"Oi!" Michelle rose from her own seat, squaring up to him. Her fingertips shook, every bit of her wanted an excuse to lay into him, verbally, physically, she just wanted to hurt him. "It's every bit my business when you come in here harassing my best friend!"

"You're trying to control her life!"

"You _wrecked_ her life!" Michelle snarled, eyeing him in disgust. "And if you think I'm going to let you hang around here to do it again, you can bounce, Barlow. Or sail. I don't c—"

" _Will you both just shut up!"_ Carla screamed, slamming her hand down onto the desk. She was furious, completely drained, her head pounding. "Neither of you speak for me! Neither of you are entitled to know my business. Just get out, both of you. I can't stand it anymore. _Go!"_ Her eyes were charged with anger, her glare dangerous and her final shout so fierce that they'd both been rendered silent. Carla flopped down onto her chair, exhausted, the screen in front of her pinging with at least five emails all flagged of high importance. The thought of going through them made her stomach roll, she felt sick. Everything was weighing down on her.

Peter had the sense to leave first, turning his back and stormed out of the office, making sure the world knew how angry he was when he slammed the main door so hard she swore she felt the room quake. She was still so angry and prayed that Michelle would leave too. But she wouldn't leave it. She could never just leave it.

"Carla—"

"Michelle, get lost." She bit out without even looking at her, so she didn't have to see the hurt plastered across her features.

Dropping her head into her hands, she tried to take a deep breath, but it shook and she choked before her lungs could fill. Glancing around at the empty factory in dismay, she felt the knot tighten in her stomach. Everything was a mess. The hurt that she'd felt after Michelle had abandoned her that morning came flooding back despite the younger woman's apologies, because why was she the one allowed to freak out while Carla was trying to hold it together? Peter barging back into her life like he was so desperate to help and maybe if he'd been as desperate to keep faithful then none of this would be happening right now.

She couldn't go home, she didn't want to face Michelle or anyone. Kate had been messaging her full of excitement that she was staying over before the wedding and she'd be bunking in with her and the thought of bringing her mood down on the night before the best day of her life felt like the most selfish thing she could do. But there was nowhere else she could go. Unless...

With another pang of guilt and a heavy heart at what she was about to ask of someone who'd already started to feel the burden of having someone like her in his life, she picked up the phone and dialled the number of Roys Rolls.

 **IXIXIXI**

"Hiya, you feeling okay?" Carla asked lightly, breezing in with her hair and make up already complete. She'd been up since the crack of dawn, trying to cover the fact she'd barely slept at all. After masking most of the damage with concealer, she'd made her way over to the Rovers Return and greeted her sister lightly. Kate was stood by the table, leaning over a stack of toast that Jenny had prepared with disinterest. She looked slightly nervous, however on her sister's appearance turned to her with a raised brow, her lips pursed and Carla's stomach dropped.

"You know the strangest thing happened last night," Kate began sarcastically, her face contorted in mock confusion. "I stayed awake for a bit waiting for you to come home and when I eventually fell to sleep and woke up this morning, your side was still cold. Like you hadn't slept in there at all," she fixed Carla with a warning glare as the older woman had opened her mouth to apologise, silently stopping her from speaking. "Dad told me you'd gone back to Roy's for the night, I assumed to give me space. But then when I told Michelle you'd be on your way over, she suddenly had something urgent to attend to and disappeared altogether." Folding her arms across her chest, she eyed the older brunette accusingly, hooking her foot around one of the chairs to pull it out, before flopping down onto it. "What the flamin' hell is going on with the pair of you? We are sick of this!"

"Nothing for you to worry about, honestly." Carla tried to placate her, before latching onto another subject. "What time is Maria coming?"

"No, Carla. You're not off the hook. Is this about whatever it was you did to her, again? It's getting out of hand. I'd like some answers."

"Please, Kate," Carla pleaded wearily, unsure she had the energy for an argument, it was going to be trying enough getting through the day. But it was her sister's big day and she wanted to be there, wanted to support her. The last thing she was going to do was sit and discuss her problems, not that she would have deemed any time appropriate to air them.

"I mean it, I don't want this hanging over you both. So just tell me what you did."

"It's not important."

"Yes it is! I'm not having you two spoiling our big day—"

"Oh as if we'd spoil your day—"

" _But what did you do,_ just tell me what could possibly be so bad—"

"I kissed her!" Carla revealed, clapping her hands over her mouth once she had, as though she could force them back in; they'd slipped out without her permission.

"You— you what?" Whatever Kate had been expecting, it wasn't that. The young woman looked completely floored at the confession.

"That day I went to talk to her, that's what I did." She whispered, closing her eyes so she wouldn't be able to see her sister's expression.

"But you can't do that! She's your—I mean we're—"

"No, she's not. Johnny and Barry are second cousins. I mean technically, _they_ could get married." She shrugged, it was reasoning she'd used to calm herself after finding out Johnny was her dad in the first place.

"Okay," Kate nodded, pushing her hand through her hair, which Maria was due to come and sort for her at any moment. "So you kissed her. Well, that's not the worst thing you can do to someone." She reasoned, giving a small nod. "I mean you were okay for a bit after that, weren't you? She probably just needs time. It's a big thing."

Carla frowned, wondering where Kate was heading with this. In a way she almost wanted her to figure it out for her, because it had been messing with her mind for days, for weeks if she was being truly honest.

"I thought you wanted Peter. I'm so confused." Her sister shook her head, continuing to speak as she tried to figure it out.

"Join the club." The factory boss whispered, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Her head was beginning to throb at the base of her skull, the tension causing her whole stance to become rigid.

"Do you like her?"

"Of course I like her, she's my best friend." Carla snapped instantly and far too defensively, folding her arms across her chest. She looked on the verge of tears, her heart was thumping drastically in her chest. Her throat was suddenly dry and she struggled to swallow back the emotion she felt.

"No, no you don't. You don't _like_ her at all." Kate's eyes widened in realisation, her mouth falling open. It was starting to make sense. How could she have not seen it before? The tension that they'd all had to wade through whenever they'd been within ten feet of one another, the way the arguments seemed to intensify whenever Peter had been mentioned and Michelle's severe dislike of the man, her splitting up with Robert and him shouting his head off in the Rovers, making snide comments about Carla when he was on shift. He'd brought a box of Michelle's leftover belongings to the Bistro at one point, ornaments, CD's, pictures... Pictures of her and Carla, their faces distorted behind the smashed glass that encased them, the photo frames completely ruined. The way Carla had stooped around the street for weeks, pale, unable to eat, completely heartbroken whenever they'd been in the midst of one of their ever occurring fallouts. It slammed into like one of the trams that rumbled over the viaduct, the pieces suddenly falling perfectly into place. "You _love_ her."

The other woman spluttered, her face growing rapidly paler by the second and Kate wondered if she was going to pass out. Using the arm of the sofa to steady herself, Carla shook her head, trying to swallow against the nausea that bubbled in her throat. "No I don't." She whispered, shaking her head in defiance, hardly able to force the words out. "Not like that."

"Was it just a kiss?"

Carla's gaze snapped up to Kate's, her green eyes wide and terrified, briskly filling until they brimmed with tears.

"Carla?"

She shook her head, tipping it towards the ceiling so she could force her unshed tears away. "It had been, up until two nights ago." She choked, fuming with herself when one of them slipped down her cheek.

"Hey, it's alright—" On her part, Kate was being fantastic. She'd taken the news so much easier than Carla thought she ever would. But then if there was anyone to go about the turn of events if was her, her sister who was about to marry another woman. The wide eye'd judgement she'd been expecting hadn't come, maybe a hint of shock had passed in her sister's dark eyes for a second, but she was calm. Well, as calm as anyone could be on the morning of their wedding.

"No it's not alright, this is a huge mess." Carla sniffed, scrambling in her bag for a tissue and wiping beneath her eyes desperately. "'Chelle was right. We've ruined everything."

"I don't think you have. I think she feels the same." Kate admitted, causing Carla's face to wrinkle in confusion.

"I'm not— she's not— we're _not_ gay."

"No one's saying you are. I mean look at Rana—"

"Rana's in her twenties, I'm in my forties. I think I'd know. I _do_ know. I don't fancy women. I'm not attracted to other women." It was true, she didn't feel like she was lying when she spoke the words out loud. Her mind compiled a mental list of the one's she saw every on the street; Maria, Toyah, Leanne, Fizz, Izzy, Sarah, _Tracy._ She shuddered slightly. No, none of them were romantically appealing.

"But you did sleep with Michelle."

Carla placed her hands over her face, slumping onto the the arm of the sofa with a shaking sigh. "It was just that one time."

Kate nodded, trying to process the new information. It _seemed_ simple enough in her head, but looking towards her sister, who suddenly had everything thrown into question, who was probably doubting every decision she'd ever made in her life, questioning every part of herself, well she knew how that felt. She knew it wasn't simple or easy at all.

"You know, Carla," Kate began, waiting for the other woman to slide her hands away from her face before continuing to speak again. "Sometimes two people fall for each other and the only label it needs is love."

Carla let out a cry of frustration, jumping up again from where she was sat. "Kate, we're not _in_ love!" She screeched out, feeling her head start to properly pound now due to her exertion. "I am _not_ in love with—"

The door swung open and Maria and Jenny spilled through, causing her heart to seize. Both of them looked perplexed, casting their gazes from Carla to Kate, waiting to be given some kind of explanation.

"You're not in love with who?" Jenny asked bluntly, automatically walking over to where a bottle of champagne was stood in the middle of the table, beginning to fuss with the cork.

"I— I'm not in love with Peter." Carla stuttered, waves of anxiety rippling down her spine. If they'd have walked in just a second later, well in her panic stricken state it really wasn't something she wanted to thing about.

"Well that's good," Maria nodded, oblivious to the turmoil, or the air that was heavy with unspoken words between Kate and Carla, who already knew that her younger sister wouldn't allow the conversation to remain unfinished. "Because I just saw him jump into the car with a load of things and drive off."

Carla pushed her hand through her hair in stress, wishing she could run away for a bit herself, away from them all and figure things out in her own time. Or never figure things out at all. Just start a new life somewhere else. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was ridiculous. She couldn't leave her family, she couldn't leave _her._ Her stomach flipped and she was yet to work out if it as nerves or— or something else entirely. Fear, she decided quickly. Carla attempted to straighten her face, feeling guilty. Not only had she come in and piled a load of issues in what was going to be the happiest day of Kate's life, she was also definitely bringing the celebratory mood down and her sister didn't deserve that. Her sister was also smart. Sensing her turmoil, the erratic state she was in, Kate took pity and dismissed her from the prenuptial preparations.

"Carla, go and find the person you need to talk to, yeah? Life's too short."

 **A/N: So I've decided to develop this based loosely on what's happened recently— not everything is/will be the same. As of last week I've had to stop watching the show and I'm not sure when (if at all) I'll start watching again so I'll be putting my own spin on things. It's going to be angsty, because I wanted a different style to Glass Hearts, so don't expect a happy ending too soon. I'm going to be sensitive of what's happened and put a lot of the focus within their family unit, in the aftermath— because I feel that this in particular needs to be less developed as a 'whodunnit' and dealt with a lot more tastefully.**

 **I know this pairing is non-canon and doesn't have a lot of support, but I try to write authentically in reflection to the chemistry I perceive between the two on screen— so I hope this was okay! Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read, review and support my writing, it makes me smile and I'm grateful to every single person!**


	4. Chapter 4

Carla stepped out onto the street without the faintest idea where Michelle could be. It was cold, deserted, a car alarm going off somewhere in the distance. She didn't want to go back and be even worse company for the excited bunch back in the Rover's so she headed towards the factory, where she'd left her car parked. Maybe she could drive around, clear her head. The thought of sitting in the factory was unappealing; especially when she knew Beth was working on Rana's dress and the bride to be would be dipping in and out, all smiles.

The alarm seemed to get louder the closer she got to the building and it was with a groan that she realised exactly whose car it was. Fumbling in her bag for keys, she jabbed a the button to try and shut the incessant shrieking up, only then realising the shards of glass that littered the cobbles around her tyres. Glass from her window.

"Oh for God sake!" Carla groaned out loud, peering into the gaping hole and retrieving the brick that had been used to put it through.

"You wanna be careful where you park that."

She turned around, Robert's smug face grinning across at her from where he'd shouted his snide remark. He looked gleeful, dark eyes shining with mirth.

"Did you do this?" She gasped, laying her hand on the roof of her car defensively.

He shrugged in response and she grit her teeth together, angrily.

"What have I done to you?"

Robert's expression suddenly became stony and Carla swallowed, now nervous that there wasn't anyone else around.

"You know what you've done."

Fear gripped her for a moment. He couldn't know? Michelle wouldn't have told him. Not when they'd already split up. Afraid to answer back directly out of worry she'd let something slip, she allowed a mask of indifference to fall over her face and crossed her arms defiantly against her chest.

"What do you want, Robert?"

"To see _your_ whole world come crashing down."

He glared at her, she could read the intense hatred in his expression, but then he turned and walked away, strolling casually down the street as though he hadn't just committed criminal damage. What proof did she have that it was him? Right now, it felt like she had bigger things to worry about. Realising her plan of driving around to clear her head wasn't one she could now carry out, she winced and set off away from the Street. Although she didn't exactly know for sure where she was walking to, her feet seemed to carry her towards the Flying Horse. She hadn't stepped foot in there for years. It was grim compared to the Rovers, dust particles glistening in the air when she pushed open the door and let the tiniest amount of daylight into the dim setting.

She just needed a moment, that's all, to get her head straight. A moment where she wasn't worried about the factory or why Michelle was hellbent on avoiding her when they had so much to sort out between them. What if they couldn't sort it out? What if they couldn't be friends? What if she couldn't afford to fix the factory roof and the whole place went under? What if her staff refused to finish the order and whether the place was habitable or not it wouldn't matter because there wouldn't be anymore work to go back to. Her stomach squeezed and the same sick feeling that had descended upon her during the relentless hours she'd spent at her desk was back.

"What can I get you?"

"Large glass of red." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Well, she was here now, and the pull of something to take the edge off of her mounting worries was too tempting. One wouldn't hurt...

 **IXIXIXI**

"Where's Rana?"

"Where's Carla?"

Both Michelle and Kate spoke at the same time, the former directing her comment at Johnny while Kate seemed to be talking to herself, anxiously pacing the plush hotel carpet.

"Well Carla was supposed to be going to talk to you." Kate shrugged, too busy texting furiously on her phone to give much thought to her sister's whereabouts. At the moment, there whereabouts of her very soon-to-be wife was slightly more pressing.

"Right I don't want anyone to panic," Jenny began, trying to force an airy smile across her face. "But the next wedding party have just arrived."

"Jenny!" Michelle berated, rolling her eyes. Trust her to completely hinder the situation.

"Right, I'm calling Imran."

 **IXIXIXI**

"So instead of being at your sister's wedding, you're in here drowning your sorrows?" The barman cocked his eyebrow, handing Carla's change back to her which she pocketed carelessly.

"She'll be fine. Everyone else will be there. Michelle will be there." She shrugged, tipping her glass and draining half of the wine in one go. Maybe she should have just purchased a bottle and retired to a booth to wallow in her misery, rather than drunkenly relay all her woes on the poor fella trying to do what was supposed to be a quiet shift.

"Ah, Michelle. Right. The one you had a... uh, _dalliance_ with?"

Carla cackled loudly at his choice of phrase, swigging more of the wine which sloshed dangerously up the sides of the glass now held in her none-too-steady grip. "Yeah, something like that." She murmured, dropping her head into her hands. The room was slightly unsteady. Or maybe that was her, swaying on the stool she was perched on. Her phone rang out again, it had been doing for the last half an hour. Michelle. Johnny. Michelle. Ryan. Michelle. Peter. Johnny. Michelle. Peter again. Missed calls and pending voicemails were mounting up like the worries she had just rinsed away with red wine.

"Ugh, what does he want?" She prodded the device disinterestedly and the barman, now apparently invested in her backstory, leant over curiously to glance at her screen.

"Peter? The one who had the affair, but now wants you back?"

Carla shrugged, plucking her phone from the bar top and clumsily throwing it into her bag. "I don't know what he wants. He was supposed to be leaving today."

"Well what do you want?" He leant forward, resting his elbow on the bar. The light above him reflected off the top of his balding head, giving the impression of a halo. A guardian angel, Carla thought to herself, trying and failing to suppress another tipsy giggle. "You must know which one you love?"

" _Love_?" Carla grimaced, realising it was the second time someone had insinuated there was something more between herself and Michelle.

"You've just prattled on about this Michelle for over an hour, ran right through into my lunch break as well." He frowned, though he was only teasing her at this point. "And then this fella starts blowing up your phone and there was a whole new story. It's been hard to keep up."

Carla raised her eyebrow, finishing the rest of her wine and placing her empty glass in front of him. He didn't move to refill it.

"I think I just—" she broke off, as though realising the enormity of her words. "I think I'll always have _some_ sort of love for _both_ of them. Maybe in different ways. Oh, I don't know."

"I think you do." He spoke gently, taking her glass away and stowing it with the rest of the ones due to be washed. "Shall I tell you what I think?"

"Please do." Carla muttered, hoping it was some sort of guidance she could follow and not a sarcastic comment.

"I think you should go to your sister's wedding, support her and talk to Michelle."

She sighed dramatically, it was sensible advice. Too sensible. It was exactly the right thing to do and she hated that he wasn't going to let her continue to drown her sorrows. That was probably for the best; she could practically feel her liver protesting at her ill treatment of it. She was already on one borrowed kidney.

Nodding, she thanked him and reached into her pocket, unceremoniously allowing the change in her hand to fall into the tip jar.

"Cheers. What was that, put fifty pence in the talking monkey for sound life advice?" The barman joked, causing Carla to roll her eyes and she dropped down from her seat, the thought of facing the wedding, Michelle and potentially whatever Peter wanted enough to sober her somewhat.

"Hey, out of curiosity—" he began, just as she'd been about to pull the door open. "It's not Michelle _Connor_ you're talking about, is it?"

Carla frowned in amusement, tilting her head to the side. Small world. "It might be, why?"

"Attractive woman," he just shrugged, picking up the dishcloth from the side and running it endlessly across he surface of the bar.

The inebriated brunette let out another laugh, pulling he door open and offering him a slightly cocky smirk as her departing gesture. Her phone sang out in her bag and she picked it up, this time a message flashed on the screen. What was left of her smirk dropped from her lips, heart leaping to her mouth.

 _Johnny: where are you? Accident at the factory get here NOW!_

 **IXIXIXI**

Carla hadn't seen devastation like it since the tram had fallen off the viaduct and smashed into the cobbles. Sober from shock, she stepped out of the cab, her stomach lurching. The roof. The _faulty_ roof just she'd refused to allow Gary to fix had turned to rubble, burying half the workforce and Rana with it. She fell across the jagged pavement, her heart racing rapidly in her chest, guilt burning her throat, a huge wedge of fiery panic that she couldn't swallow down. Ambulances were parked in the street, blue sirens flaring, a fire crew had pulled up and police had cordoned off the area surrounding the building, trying to keep the gathering crowd under control. She heard Kate before she saw her. She looked beautiful, glossy hair falling down her back and delicate white lace flowing over her figure. But it was all wrong. Her make up was smeared, face crumpled and she was shrieking, begging the police to let her inside the crumbling building.

"You've got to let me sit with her! She's scared!" The young girl screamed, having to be held back by Johnny. Imran was shouting at a hassled looking paramedic, Toyah trying to calm him down and Michelle was there, looking terrified. Ali was donning a hard hat and judging from the look on her face, she was less than happy about him offering to go into the unsafe structure.

"Kate said she's scared, she's family. If I sit with her at least she'll have someone she knows."

"Be careful, please be careful." She begged, leaning into Ryan who was nodding to the Doctor. It was brave, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to walk into the chaos so unabashedly.

"Ali's coming okay? He's coming to help you sweetheart and I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." Kate spoke down the phone that she was holding to her ear, pushing away from Johnny's hold. She was unable to keep still, how could she? Her fiancée was feet away and she wasn't allowed to help, she had to watch, watch and listen to how terrified she was. Her face crumpled but she held back her cries, knowing she had to keep strong, keep talking to Rana.

"Carla!" She recognised the voice but that confused her more. Peter was running towards her, momentary relief passing across his face at her safety, before concern for the fate of the other residents replaced it.

" _Where've you been_?" At Peter's call, someone else had turned around at the sound of her name. Michelle flew at her, grabbing hold of her shoulders as though about to shake her. "You could have been in there, for all we knew!" She raged, though the fear in her features eased slightly. "I thought you were! I thought— Oh, God, it doesn't matter now," Pulling Carla into her arms, she squeezed her tightly, making it difficult for her to draw breath. "You're safe, thank God you're safe."

Finally she moved back, but Carla found that it wasn't any easier to breathe.

"Rana's still in there. Ali went in." Michelle was white with anxiety and even that was nothing in comparison to the state her younger sister was in. Carla reached out to cup the other brunette's cheek.

"It'll be fine," She whispered, the words almost choking her. Catching hold of Kate's frantic face, she felt her eyes fill with tears and rapidly tried to blink them back. "She's going to be fine, Kate."

But it wasn't. And Carla couldn't bear it. The devastation across Kate's face, her garbled pleading down the phone, Michelle curled into Ryan as they waited on baited breath for news, all of them hoping and praying that the building wouldn't give way. It was her fault. All of this was her fault. Whatever injuries were inflicted on her staff, however serious the condition Rana would be in when they got her out, she was the cause of it all. Because she didn't listen, because she wanted to save a few quid, because she thought she could have it both ways. It was too much.

She'd slipped easily through the concerned crowd, there was too much chaos, too much hysteria for anyone to notice that she'd left. It was cowardly, she loathed every bit of herself as she crept into the deserted cafe. A sharp pain started in her knees and spread dully up her legs when they hit the hard floor behind the counter. She brought them up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them. If she let go, she might just crumble to pieces.

It had been too long, it was too quiet. Cold seeped into the fabric of her clothing, but that wasn't why she trembled. The melodic chime of the bell above the cafe door sounded distorted, drawn out and disturbing, blood was pounding in her heard, it warped her hearing. Slow, purposeful footsteps thudded quietly around the counter and she held herself even tighter together.

 _They know what you've done._

The ominous echo of them suddenly stopped and she was too terrified to look up. He hadn't spoke yet and she knew why but she didn't want to. She didn't want to know.

Her breathing was laboured, a hum of exertion leaving her mouth when she slowly lifted her head. Carla was shaking violently, face glazed with tears, eyes swollen when she finally met Peter's. The devastation across his face, the sorry look in his eyes, it stopped her heart. No. No, no, _no_.

"I'm sorry," was all he whispered.

Carla screamed out, throwing her arm across her mouth, the shrill sound absorbed by her skin. _It's my fault. It's my fault she's dead._ Her stomach rolled and she had to place both palms against the cool floor, wondering if she was about to throw up. Two arms pulled her back up but she didn't even register the gesture, she allowed it. Her head was throbbing from the force of the cries that scraped against her throat as they left her mouth. It was the only thing she could do. Rana was dead. It was her fault.

The door flew open with more urgency this time, but the brunette was making too much noise, the alerting bell was lost in her agonised wails.

"Carla! Carla where—"

Michelle stopped short, her mouth hanging open. She was grief-stricken, in shock. Mascara was smudged beneath her eyes and dried grey streaks marred her face, fresh ones still glistening in the dimness of the cafe lit only by the light beneath the counter. Through trying to calm an inconsolable Imran, Toyah had managed to inform her that she'd seen Carla run into the cafe. It was clear now as to why. Michelle had been so terrified for Rana, for Kate, for her son, that she hadn't given a moments thought as to why Peter had turned back up on the street after he was supposed to have left. He was very much there now, his arms nestled around a broken Carla and she felt awash with a whole new wave of grief.

"I— Kate will need me." Michelle whispered, her shoulders dropping, it felt like she'd just received a blow to the stomach, one almost as hard as the one she'd received when Ali had shuffled defeatedly from the ruined factory, shaking his head with tears pouring down his face. He'd need her as well. She couldn't even begin to contemplate whatever this meant and it was too much. There wasn't any room in her head or her heart for anymore uncertainty, anymore loss. Focusing on what she needed to be right now, which was a pillar of strength for Kate, for her son, for Johnny, she swallowed down the hurt that mattered less, tore her eyes away from the duo and left, the sound of the bell tolling in the silence she left behind.

 **IXIXIXI**

Loss numbed the mind. In the immediate aftermath, everyone functioned on autopilot. Tea was made, tissues were given out, hugs were received. Tea was left untouched to go cold, tissues were crumpled on the coffee table and smeared with make-up, soggy with tears. Hugs didn't stop the pain. They just encased you in it.

Loss of appetite. No one ate, even when food was made. Jenny passed around plates of sandwiches, biscuits, crisps. The bar was closed, only the Connor's, minus Carla, and Rana's immediate family accommodated the seats. No one knew what to do next. They were just waiting. Several tumblers of whiskey were drained.

Loss of sleep. Not one eye closed. No one even attempted to try. They just sat in the quiet, cried in silence.

Loss of time. The hours dragged by, but then suddenly it was light and by this time, people were rubbing their eyes, wondering if maybe sleep would help after all. It was Ali who retired first, after a reassuring hug from Michelle, who whispered to him how proud she was that he'd risked his safety to try and help. Toyah and Imran were next, deciding that a shower might help because there was no way he'd be able to rest.

Loss of the one you loved. It was just Kate and Johnny, the only two who remained awake. They sat together in the back room and the numbness had been replaced by pain, overwhelming grief. She cried, more than she'd ever cried in her life. All the people she'd loved most in the world had gone.

 **IXIXIXI**

Carla entered the pub wearily, it was so quiet, the whole place still in mourning. Jenny was stood behind the bar but there wasn't anyone to serve. A couple of regulars talking in hushed tones in a booth, a discarded paper beside them which had the ruined factory splashed across its covers, Rana's happy, smiling face pictured below it. She had to turn away, she couldn't bear it.

"Hey, you. Michelle and Kate are in the back." Jenny nodded, biting her lip worriedly at the mention of the younger girl. She wasn't doing too great, but then how could anyone expect her to be?

"Thanks," Her heart was in her throat, she felt guilty for disappearing, guilty for everything. There was so much of it weighing her down. She was convinced Jenny smiled at her too knowingly, the corners of her mouth curling upwards in contempt. But when Carla blinked, shook her head, it was merely the friendly, sympathetic smile she'd flashed the moment she'd walked in. She must have imagined it.

" _Where the hell have you been?"_

Now _that_ was contempt. The look on Michelle's face. Could she blame her? She willed the younger brunette to understand, met her gaze with saddened green hues, pleading with her.

"'Chelle, I'm sor—"

"Don't. Don't you dare try and justify yourself. How could you just disappear like that? What were you playing at?" Michelle's eyes were glistening and when Carla reached out to her, she took a sharp step back.

"I needed to get away," Carla whispered, knowing she sounded pathetic, knowing that unless she came clean, Michelle wouldn't possibly buy such a pitiful excuse.

"You needed to get away?" Michelle scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, watching the other woman incredulously. "Your family needed you. Kate needed you." She refrained from saying 'I', refusing to bring her own feelings into a time when it was so clearly not about them. At the mention of her name, Kate peeked around from where she'd been residing in the back room, her face pale, eyes reddened. Carla felt her stomach drop.

"Kate, I'm so sorry."

"You're here now," the younger girl whispered, darting forward and collapsing gratefully into her sister's arms, tears trickling down her cheeks. "That's all that matters."

Carla held onto her, she could feel her sister shaking in her grasp. Or was she the one that was shaking? It was hard to tell. She allowed tears to dribble down her own face, rubbing circles against Kate's back. Lifting her head from her shoulder, her eyes scanned the room to try and find Michelle's, but the other woman shot her a filthy look and turned on heel, disappearing up the steps.

"Come on, darling, let's go and sit down ey? I'll make you a drink." Carla murmured, leaving one arm wrapped around Kate as she lead the grieving girl towards the back room.

 **IXIXIXI**

For the most part, Michelle had stayed away from her. She was there for Kate, civil in front of their family, but they hadn't spoke, not properly. While everyone else had forgiven her disappearing act, the other woman was still furious. Not that she'd shown it. She knew why, Michelle wasn't selfish. There was no way she was going to bring anymore grief into the family, give them anything more to worry about. Their only focus was getting through the loss, another loss; Kate had had far too much of it. Carla was sharing a room with her, she'd listened to her agonised cries for hours in end, stroking her hair, each whimper she released causing another stab of guilt to pierce her insides. She couldn't eat or sleep, the shame twisted her stomach into knot and it had begun plaguing her sleep.

"I dreamt about her last night." Kate whispered tearfully at breakfast, picking at her toast disinterestedly. Michelle reached out and took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Carla had to screw her eyes tight. So had she. A terrible, twisted nightmare. Rana walking towards her, blue skinned and gaunt, blood splashed over her ivory white dress. Her body had cracked sickeningly as she'd drifted closer, her movements jerky. Carla had frozen in fear, unable to move, unable to scream as the bride's hand had stretched out, knuckles popping beneath her withered skin.

" _You killed me. You killed me, Carla. I'm dead because of you."_ The voice was right by her ear, as vivid as the memory, cold and harsh, an icy breath which caused her insides to freeze. She needed to move. Now.

"Carla!"

As soon as she'd stood up, the rush of blood to her head caused the room to spin and her knees to give way. Her vision fogged and she threw her arms out in terror, only knowing that she was falling, falling and she couldn't see. She collided with something solid. Solid but soft. And warm. Nothing like the hard floor she'd been anticipating. That perfume was familiar, she leant into the source of the comforting scent even as the whirring slowed and she was able to differentiate between large blobs of colour when she was guided back down against the sofa cushions. Two gentle hands rested either side of her face and she blinked slowly, a pair of blurred hazel eyes fading in and out of focus before her own.

"Shall I get Ali?" Kate's worried voice came from somewhere in the room and Carla shook her head, breathing deeply.

"M'fine," She murmured, though she felt sick and still hadn't been able to open her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. There was someone next to her now, warm palms still pressed against her cheeks, tilting her face up to the light. Carla groaned, scrunching her eyes against it but it didn't feel too bad now, her vision was starting to clear. She didn't want to pull away, not yet. Carla hadn't been this close to her in days. It was a relief when Michelle let her, allowed her to fall against her chest and even dropped one hand from her face to slide an arm around her.

"You don't look fine," Michelle bit her lip worriedly, taking in the paleness of her face, the grey tone to her skin. "Look up at me," she instructed, waiting until the older woman had complied before glancing into her eyes, the whites of them glazed over from exhaustion. She looked as bad as Kate, possibly worse. "Have you taken your medication?"

Carla nodded, the fizzing in her head had calmed and aside from a dull throbbing, she felt normal again.

"It's probably just low bloody sugar," she dismissed, shuddering slightly at the tingling in her ears. She could almost feel the remnants of that whisper, it caused a chill to spread down her arms. It could have only been her imagination, saturated with guilt, but it had felt so real. She'd heard it.

"Well when was the last time you ate?" Michelle questioned, tilting her head to one side as though only just realising exactly how terrible Carla looked. "Or slept," she sighed, pulling one of the cushions from the end of the sofa and sliding it behind her, gently sitting her back against it.

"I'll make you a drink and some toast." Kate made to get up from her seat, picking up her own untouched plate, the bread cold and soggy by this point; half of it had been crumbled by her anxious fingertips.

"No, Kate, I can do it—"

"Let me, please? I need the distraction, I need to be busy." The younger girl looked pleadingly at Michelle; the whole family had been reluctant to allow her to raise a finger and while she was eternally grateful she had them to lean on, having absolutely nothing to do only left her alone with her grief and she was so tired of its demanding presence. Without waiting for Michelle's response, Kate disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the other two women alone.

Carla didn't look well at all. She hadn't even bothered with her make-up, her eyes were sunken in and her face was even more angular than usual, her cheekbones looking far too sharp. Michelle felt a pang of shame for how she had avoided her; Carla was having to spend her nights with Kate and all of them had heard her grieving into the early hours, she hadn't spared much of a thought to how it would be affecting her, watching her sister hurt, feeling helpless. Guilt erupted in her stomach and she reached out, cupping the other brunette's cheeks once more.

"Hey, I can take care of Kate today, you know? If you don't feel up to the memorial, I'll be there with her—"

"No. No I need to go." Carla insisted, her green eyes suddenly fierce. There was no way she was going to hide away again. Not when she had so much to make up for. If she helped Kate through it, then maybe it would be okay. Maybe Rana wouldn't be so angry at her.

"Well then let me stay in with her tonight, yeah? You can have a proper rest."

Again, Carla shook her head, eyes glazing over and the feeling that something wasn't quite right began to stir within Michelle.

"Carla, what's going on?"

The other woman looked up at her through heavy lids. She couldn't tell her, because then Michelle would hate her. Everyone would hate her. It was too hard to watch the concern that she was so undeserving of mounting in Michelle's eyes so she closed her own, oblivious to the tears that trickled from them and fell down her ashen cheeks. Gentle thumbs brushed them away and she tried to pull back. She couldn't accept the comfort, not when she'd caused the grief.

"What is it? Tell me," Michelle whispered, leaning in closer to her, "baby, you can tell me."

Carla let out a tiny whimper of a cry, terrified at the other woman's ability to see right through her. Michelle was trying to tilt her face, but she didn't want to look at her, if she looked at her she was sure she'd be able to work it out.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have disappeared. I'm sorry, 'Chelle," She babbled, taking the younger brunette by surprise. Surely this wasn't what she'd been tearing herself up over? Carla's eyes snapped open and she suddenly moved forward. This time it was her hands that held Michelle's face, whose own had dropped into her lap when she'd jolted them out of their previous position.

"Nothing happened." She whispered urgently, her eyes searching Michelle's, imploring her to believe.

"What?" The younger brunette frowned, confused and completely taken aback at Carla's abrupt change in mood.

"Between me and Peter. When I was gone. Nothing happened."

Michelle's mouth fell open and she tried to formulate a response. She cast a fearful glance behind them, but the distant whir of water boiling in the kettle sounded from the kitchen and Kate was still rattling around in the cupboards.

"Carla that's not— this isn't the time or place—"

"I just needed you to know. You believe me, don't you?"

Michelle nodded slowly, still baffled by the other woman's immediate desperation, the way her eyes had locked so intensely with hers. They glistened with relief and the urgency within them seemed to dissipate slightly. Her shoulders sagged and she tilted her forehead to rest against Michelle's, her hands still holding her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks.

"You're scaring me, Carla." The younger brunette spoke softly and the words pained her. She was doing it again, causing more misery. Kate was already hurt, maybe she'd never stop hurting again and now Michelle was scared and it was her fault. How many more people could she ruin?

 _You're rotten._ Carla jumped, glancing up to make sure it hadn't come from Michelle's mouth, wondering if she'd voiced her thoughts aloud and that was the conclusion she'd come to. But Michelle was just watching her, the frown across her face deepening.

"Sorry," She repeated her apology, a breathy whisper which breezed across Michelle's face and then she raised her chin, dipping forward to peck her mouth. It was so quick, so light that the other woman barely had time to register what she'd done. Michelle didn't have chance to protest the action, though she wasn't sure she would have, before she was pulled into Carla's hold once more, the other woman wrapping her in a firm hug.

Michelle returned it, her brain working rapidly to catch up with what was happening. Something was definitely wrong, that she was now sure of, but she didn't know what it was and knew that unless Carla opened up to her she wouldn't be able to help. For a moment she wondered if the older brunette had succumbed to tears, but her face was dry against the crook of her neck.

"You're shaking, why are you shaking?" Michelle started to rock her, her tone pleading as she ran her hand over her hair in a blind attempt to soothe her.

"I'll be okay," Carla murmured, nodding to herself more than Michelle. "Just need to get through today and it'll be okay." She continued to repeat it inside her head. Once the memorial was over, things could get better. She could look after Kate, look after her family and make things okay again. Rana would be at peace and she'd make her see how sorry she was.

 _I'll look after Kate, I promise._

 **IXIXIXI**

Whenever there was loss, the weather seemed to mock them. Or mirror them. The loss of sun, a dull grey sky that loomed over the gathered family, the cool breeze that lifted dried leaves and scattered them around their ankles as they stood in the community garden.

Kate was brave, stood a little apart from them all, speaking about Rana, her shattered gaze broken but determined as she looked fiercely ahead. She'd even attempted a smile, her lips curling half heartedly when she recalled memories through a voice that cracked against the heavy silence.

For now, Michelle had put Carla's earlier strange behaviour down to exhaustion, because the other woman now resembled complete normality. Or, as normal as anyone could appear to be while in mourning. Her eyes were still saddened, tears pricked in the corners of them but she didn't look completely lost, she was still there. She was grounded now, one of her hands stretched out to hold Kate's, the other interlocked with Michelle's. The younger brunette made a mental note to once more attempt to talk Carla into letting her stay with Kate that night.

"I'm glad I've still got you here," It was quiet enough that Kate's tearful whisper was still caught by all of them, she'd turned to face Carla and the older woman gently untangled her fingers from Michelle's so she could step closer to her sister, wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.

"Oh no, what does he want?" Johnny's mutter came from over Michelle's shoulder and she whipped around, her stomach dropping at the sight of him.

Robert made his way into the centre of the garden, his condescending scoff aimed directly at Carla.

"Don't, Robert. Don't make this about you. Not today." Michelle stepped forward, as though daring him to defy her. She refused to believe that he would be so selfish in his bitter resentment that he'd try to taint Rana's memorial. "Have some respect."

"Respect?" He laughed darkly, shaking his head in bewilderment, clearly amused by something. "Have you not got any respect for yourselves? Stood here mourning with _her_." His hand was raised, finger pointing accusingly at Carla. "Tell them. Tell them why they're all stood here." He'd raised his voice, it carried all the way to where Kate was stood, looking aghast at the profane interruption.

"Look, whatever you've got against Carla, today isn't the day—" Johnny began, only to have the rest of his sentence drowned out by Robert's humourless snort.

"I think you're all going to have something against her when you realise what she's done. _Tell them, Carla!"_ He was rapidly running out of patience at her silence, the way she shrank back from his onslaught and shook her head. "Tell them what you knew about the roof."

Kate turned to her sister, her eyes serious, demanding. But Carla wouldn't speak, couldn't speak. Her eyes were fixated on Robert's who she found she hated with every fibre of her being in that moment.

"She knew that roof was unsafe. Gary told her it needed repairing and she did nothing."

"What?" Kate shook her head, unable to comprehend his words, refusing to believe it. She wouldn't. "Carla?" Turning to her sister again, she searched her face, waiting for her to deny it, to storm at Robert for spouting rubbish and showing an abhorrent amount of disrespect. But she didn't, she didn't say anything. Her eyes had glazed over, tears threatening to spill from them.

"Carla, tell me he's lying." Kate begged, taking a shaking step back. "Tell me he's lying!"

Carla could feel the blood rushing in her ears, all eyes on her. Always on her. The weight of dread settled on her shoulders, she could feel it pushing her into the ground, wishing she could be swallowed in it.

 _Like Rana. But she didn't deserve it. Not like you._

Fear radiated in her chest, her heart trying to burst through it.

"I didn't— I didn't know it would collapse." It was a meek whisper, but they heard every word.

"Oh, God. You did. You knew. I feel sick, I'm going to be sick." Kate started to garble, stumbling in her haste to put more distance between herself and Carla. "Get her away from me. _Get her away!_ " She screamed out hysterically, Johnny rushing between them and wrapping his arms around his youngest daughter who fell against him.

"Is it true?" He asked his eldest, the disappointment already evident on his face.

"I'm so sorry, truly I am," Carla whispered, letting the tears pool in her eyes and drop from them. It was almost relieving that she no longer had to carry it, but it didn't last for long. The fear and the guilt were still present, demanding her attention once more. They never left her alone for long. Unlike her family, who had began to walk away. There was only Michelle left and Carla tried to move towards her, but she held up her hands.

"Don't touch me." She bit out, determined not to look Carla in the eye. Because if she did, the older woman would be able to see how much it hurt. "That's why you ran away with Peter isn't it? I bet he knew. I bet you told him."

Carla didn't deny it, she allowed Michelle her say. They hadn't spoke about anything yet and she deserved this. She deserved whatever Michelle was about to throw at her.

"That's why you've been acting different, carrying that guilt must have been excruciating." Her words might have sounded understanding; her tone said otherwise. "I was terrified for you! Just like I was that night— and you just— all you've done is run away. Run away to him." The wound was open now, her emotion raw as it bled out. _"I needed you! We all needed you!"_ She was crying, really crying. Carla hadn't seen her do so yet and she was stricken. Of course she'd needed to cry, she'd taken care of Kate too, and her sons; at one point she'd even been dashing in and out to take care of the Bistro, despite her own grief. Carla tried to take her hand but Michelle rejected her once more. Michelle's rejection would never stop hurting the way it did.

"I said don't touch me! I don't want you near me!" Maybe if she screamed the words loud enough, the younger woman could actually bring herself to believe them.

"Carla, leave it for now."

Of course he was there, hovering by the garden; her keeper. His voice was gentle but Michelle eye'd him harshly, trying to work out his angle.

"You can stay with me, if you need to."

Ah.

"Of course," The younger brunette let out a bitter scoff, furiously swiping at her cheeks. "You know, I actually thought we could— that we were—" She broke off. No. Even angry and desperate, even heartbroken and full of loathing for the man in front of her, she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She wouldn't be the first to talk about that night and she certainly wasn't going to let Peter catch wind of it. Attempting to keep her head up, a difficult feat when her chin wobbled and it was taking strength she wasn't sure she could uphold to keep it together, she stalked past them, pausing by the gate to glance back at Carla.

"I'm so ashamed of you."

 **IXIXIXI**

"I hate her."

Michelle didn't attempt to defend Carla to Kate. For far too long she'd kept her own emotions stable, but this was one step too far. It crippled her that the reason for her pain wasn't quite the one that matched Kate's. She felt guilty and whatever she'd said to Carla, the shame was residing inside herself.

"I can't believe she'd do this. I feel so stupid."

Kate looked up, surprised. Her cousin hadn't lost control before now. But there she was at the table, her head in her hands, tears falling down her cheeks.

"She doesn't deserve your tears." The younger brunette whispered before she could stop herself, before she remembered that she wasn't supposed to know. Truth be told, she hadn't given any thought to what Carla had confessed to her earlier in the day, before everything had gone wrong, before her life had been blown apart. It had been the last thing on her mind. "You weren't to know what she was capable of doing. We've all done things we regret."

Michelle's brow furrowed at Kate's pointed words and she raised her head, what little make-up she'd attempted to do that day was now residing beneath her eyes. Her cousin looked uneasy for a second, trying to soften her features as she contemplated how to deliver her next words.

"I _know_ ," Kate spoke gently, an apologetic grimace creasing her features. "About what happened between you both— and I won't tell anyone." She added hastily, clocking the way Michelle's body tensed, her eyes wide with fear. Reaching out, she laid a comforting hand over the older woman's and patted the back of it comfortingly. "It must be hard for you, too."

Michelle didn't know what to say. If she had told her about that night, then Kate was insinuating that there had been more than a physical element between her and Carla and she suddenly had the urge to ask exactly what the other woman had said. She wanted to know word for word. But before she could even formulate a response they were interrupted.

"Who let you in?" Michelle grimaced, unable to stop herself. Peter held up his hands, clearly not wanting an argument. What he wanted and what he would get, however, we're two vastly different things.

"Your _girlfriend_ doesn't live here anymore." Kate shrugged, though her eyes suddenly widened and she threw Michelle a sorry glance at the word she had chosen, having not wanted to say her sister's name. If Carla's unofficial title had bothered her, she was excelling in not letting it show. It was scary; Michelle was getting almost as good as Carla at being able to hide her true emotions.

"I just wanted to ask you, I mean—" he stopped, shuffling awkwardly, unsure how to do so, but desperate. "Please don't tell the police."

Kate laughed out loud, clapping her hands. It as jarring to see her look so gleeful when she'd spent days and days so consumed in her grief.

"Imran and I already reported her. So i'd be expecting a knock at the door any time from the boys in blue."

"Kate, she made a mistake—"

"Oh she made a _colossal mistake_." Michelle cut in, eyeing the man up and down pointedly, her eyes dark with loathing.

Peter didn't bother answering, he knew it was a lost cause. Maybe he should have given them more time to calm down. With nothing but a departing sigh, he left the two Connor women alone once more.

Only _almost_ as good as Carla, Michelle was in her ability to hold back her feelings, just _almost_. The moment Peter had left, her face crumpled and she covered her face with her hands, taking in a breath that was rough and jagged.

"Michelle, don't," Kate murmured sadly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "Those two deserve one another."

 **IXIXIXI**

It looked like Kate may never mellow. If Michelle thought she might in the few days following Carla's arrest, she'd been sorely mistaken. The young girl had taken to wandering about the Rover's with a tight lipped expression, silent aside from random outbursts of rage directed towards her sister.

"What would he think? What would Aidan think?" She cried to herself, glancing at his photo which was situated proudly behind the bar.

"Kate, come on." Michelle tried to placate her, her own heart heavy. She couldn't take much more of this, being part of a family than had dropped to pieces. Again. "Let's not make today about that, ey? It's about remembering Aidan."

"We've only just remembered Rana," Kate's voice broke, tears splashing down her cheeks. In less than a year she'd lost her brother, wife and she was refusing to call Carla a sister anymore. Michelle was about to go to her when Johnny appeared from the back, straightening his suit jacket, face falling at the sight of his daughter's stricken one.

"Hey come on, love," he attempted to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame.

Managing to control her own emotions, Michelle slipped through to the back, finding purchase on the fourth step up as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She was worried. None of them had heard from Carla since Peter had come to beg them not to go to the police. Anger had swirled in her stomach at the time, anger at him, anger towards Carla... jealousy. It was that which sickened her, she had no right to feel that way, no right to make this devastation about herself and so she'd held back, allowing it to manifest into an anger which has dissipated into sadness. Sadness was okay, sadness was allowed. It was normal to wander around looking broken after a loss. After Aidan and Rana, after Carla; their fractured family that the other brunette was no longer allowed to be a part of. All of it hurt and she missed her. It took her a moment to realise her eyes felt wet and she swiped impatiently at her cheeks. No matter what Kate thought of her, Carla deserved to be there today. She deserved to pay her respects to Aidan.

There were brief texts she'd sent her the day before, after breaking her resolve, because she just had to know that she was alright. She cared, she cared far too much, so much more than she wished she did. They'd gone unanswered, which hadn't surprised her even if it stung. It was unlikely she'd get a response from her this time, so she tried a different route.

" _We're visiting Aidan's grave today, it's his birthday. Can you get Carla there?"_

She sent the text to Peter, wondering if it sounded too blunt, too impolite. They were past the need for pleasantries. He responded back so quickly that Michelle guessed he must have been anticipating one of them contacting him.

" _I know, I overheard Johnny mentioning it. I've told her, she doesn't want to see you."_

Michelle knew the "you" was a collective term for the family, but she couldn't help bristling in anger as though he was digging at her personally. Maybe that was the excuse for the text she fired back.

" _So tell her we've already gone. Bring her at 12. You fooled her before, shouldn't be too hard to do it again."_

It was petty, it was more than petty, it was childish and it wasn't a day to be so. A small part of her felt the sting of shame the moment she'd sent it, but it was too late now.

" _I was going to take her anyway, don't get clever Michelle."_

She let out a scoff, deciding not to bother with a response. Carla was going to be there and that's all that mattered. Michelle had attempted to catch a glimpse of her in the street, through the window every time she'd bypassed the Barlow's but the other woman was definitely keeping to herself. That's what was scaring her, she knew how self destructive she could be when she curled herself into that shell of self loathing. Each time she'd come close to feeling too guilty to the point where she'd found herself almost knocking on the door to see her, she remembered that Carla had Peter and if her friend wanted to see her, she'd have at least replied to one of her messages. It was the kind of grief that was different to the one that came with losing someone through death.

"Michelle, are you coming?"

 **IXIXIXI**

"You lied to me." Carla hissed, though her tone had no venom. It was tiny, pained and defeated. "I trusted you and you lied."

"What the hell is she doing here?" Kate's angered shout ripped through the air.

They were all there, all of them. Stood in the graveyard watching her, all of their eyes fixed on hers and she felt so exposed, so unsafe, enough that she had to take a step closer to the man who she'd just accused of lying. Because at least he was consistent in that. It was miserable and the crisp breeze seeped through even the thickest coat that shrouded her, drenching her too-lithe frame in layers of loose fabric that the wind managed to wind itself between. She shivered, reluctant to take a step forward. Why were they all watching her like that?

 _They're planning something. That's what this was all along. Peter's in on it. You're about to get what you deserve._

Carla hunched her shoulders up by her ears, trying to force away the ever more intrusive thoughts that were increasingly penetrating her mind. She shook her head, jolting the words from her brain and Peter mistook her gesture.

"Come on, you've every right to be here."

"He's right, Carla."

Her head snapped up. Michelle's voice was light, so much softer than the last time she'd spoken to her. The younger brunette's eyes were creased with concern, her lips pressed together. Carla felt a tug in her chest, a pulse that almost pushed her forward to go to her, but Peter pressed the flowers they'd purchased from Tracy's shop into her arms and she turned to lay them by the plaque that bore her brother's name.

 _I'm sorry, Aidan. I'm sorry I did this to Kate. I never meant to. I'll do anything I can to make it right. Please don't hate me._ She thought the words so hard in her head that they deafened her, she was oblivious to her surroundings, the sound of the birds chirping in the trees, the slow whistle of their saddened tweets as though they too were lamenting. Repeating the mantra over and over on her head, she hadn't realised that her feet had automatically carried her to join the rest of her family until a soft hand dipped into her coat pocket and wrapped around her own.

Carla jumped, surprised that Michelle's face was suddenly so close to hers, those hazel hues capturing her and just for that split second it felt okay again. Normal. Her feet felt solid on the ground, she was stable. The younger woman's hand was gentle and _warm_ , she could feel the lazy throb of her own pulse against Michelle's skin, it was steady and even, calming. It was safe. Michelle didn't hate her, surely she couldn't if she was looking at her with so much compassion, her features softened with care. A smile stretched across her mouth without her permission and it felt alien for her lips to be curving of their own free will. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled naturally. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd forced one. Carla felt tears prick the backs of her eyes and she didn't want to taint the moment so she dropped her gaze, focusing ahead once more. It wouldn't do her any good to allow herself to become hopeful anyway; she knew she wouldn't be returning home with them.

Michelle still kept hold of her hand, squeezed her fingers comfortingly, brushed her thumb against the back of her palm. She didn't even let go when the rest of her family began to walk away and a glimmer of hope sparked in her chest before she could douse it.

"We're going to raise a toast to him in the pub," She informed her, keeping hold of her gaze. "You're going to come, aren't you?"

"Michelle, come on!" Kate's impatient call sounded a short distance away and Carla shrank back, shaking her head.

"Please?" The younger brunette sounded desperate as she stepped closer, curling her hands around her biceps to stop her from moving away again. "I want you there." Michelle looked to Peter imploringly and he have a curt nod, indicating he'd make sure she got there.

"Michelle!"

"In a minute, Kate!"

She turned back to Carla, opening her arms and pulling the other woman into a careful embrace. Another surge of worry caused her stomach to flip; the older brunette felt entirely too thin through the winter coat she was bundled up in. Carla held onto her, there was something frenzied about the way her arms locked around Michelle, holding fistfuls of material in her hands as she clutched at her.

"I'll see you there, yeah?" Michelle whispered, brushing a lock of limp hair behind Carla's ear so she could graze her lips against the side of her head, causing the other woman to sink further into her. She almost turned and called for the rest of the Connor's to go without her; there was no way she could desert Carla when she was in such a state. But she wanted to catch Kate on her own, try and have a word with her. As angry as she was with her sister, having her separated from the rest of the family like this was clearly taking its toll. It was a horrible accident that Carla was going to be paying the price for even without the rest of her family bearing their grudges against her. With reluctance, she let her go, having to turn away from the absent look in Carla's eyes before she lost her resolve completely. Even before she reached Kate, she could see the younger girls expression was stony and she whimpered internally; it was going to be easy to convince any of them to let Carla home.

 **IXIXIXI**

Michelle was anxiously biting at the skin around her thumb. They'd been back a whole five minutes and each of them had dragged out to feel like at least ten. Carla still wasn't here. She felt sick to her stomach. As soon as she'd clapped eyes on the other woman in the graveyard, her heart had frozen in her chest and then dropped nauseatingly. She'd looked _ill_. She _was_ ill, she must be. Michelle wasn't sure how the factory boss had still been standing; her blanched skin had stood out against the darkness of her hair, sickly and dewy, the shadows beneath her eyes so prominent that they gave her face a permanently sunken appearance. The worst thing had to be the look in her eyes. A green that usually sparked with sass, we're wired with wisecracks, lust-filled with life now so vastly vacant and misplaced. That woman hadn't looked like Carla, curled in on herself and uncertain. She'd looked like a child, a lost and frightened child, clinging to Peter like a toddler clutching a comfort blanket.

Michelle wasn't ashamed of Carla; she was ashamed of herself for her uncontrolled outburst that had lead to the rift between them.

"Oh you are joking. Get out!" The sound of a glass being slammed against the hard surface of the bar jolted Michelle from her thoughts. Kate was rounding it, flared with fury as she marched towards Carla, who had just been guided through the doors by Peter.

Michelle almost wanted her to fight back, fight her corner, but she seemed to get even tinier and Peter was allowing it, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I need to go." Carla muttered and he gave a small nod, making to leave until Michelle moved between them and caught her arm.

"No, you need to stay." She spoke firmly, but not unkind. "I know this isn't easy, but it's for Aidan. We're all family."

Kate scoffed at the insinuation and Michelle shot her a reproachful look, ignoring the way she mumbled darkly under her breath and instead linked her arm through Carla's to lead her into a free booth. It was to her annoyance that Peter followed, sliding in next to her before Michelle had the chance, but she stretched her arms across the table, holding her hand out.

Carla glanced at it, threw an uncertain look towards Kate, before settling her palm against Michelle's.

"Hey, look at me," the younger brunette whispered, trying to divert her friend's attention from the way she was staring so fearfully at Kate. "Carla?"

She turned her head, the idle chatter from the rest of the punters filling her ears like a swarm of angry wasps. It was just buzzing, relentless noise and she hunched her shoulders against it. Carla wanted to go home, she didn't feel safe.

 _Where is home? You haven't got a home. No one wanted you. I don't blame them._

The distorted voice went through her like a severed nerve, stinging for a moment and cutting her off completely from her surroundings. Each time it spoke it sounded less like it was coming from her own mind and more like something, someone, was whispering menacingly in her ear.

Michelle didn't miss the way she tensed, her mouth parting slightly. Her lips were chapped, the skin cracked and faded, the lower one trembling. The grip on her hand became vice like and then suddenly slackened and went limp.

"Carla? Are you—"

Carla's phone lit up on the table, signalling a notification. Trying to distract herself, she snatched it up and opened the message. Her blood turned to ice in her veins.

 _1 new message from: Rana Habeeb_

 _YOU DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH_

Carla gasped, feeling her throat constrict, the breath sucked out of her lungs. It made sense. It made sense now.

Gentle hands carefully pried the phone from her grasp. Carla let her.

"You destroy everything you touch?" Michelle read out softly, horrified and confused. It had come from Rana's social media account. Peter snatched the phone from her grip before she could stop him, jumping up from the table in anger.

"Was this you? Was this your idea of a sick joke?" He raged at a dumbfounded Kate, waving the mobile accusingly in her face.

"Peter!" Michelle snapped, fuming at the entirely inappropriate way he felt entitled to speak to her grieving cousin in. "Leave her alone!"

"What? What're you talking about?" Kate took hold of the phone, her eyes widening, a cry falling from her mouth. "Is that Rana's account? You can't think— I wouldn't—" She backed away, eyes rapidly filling with tears, a sob tearing from her throat.

"You _tactless idiot_!" Michelle shouted, trying to catch hold of Kate who was becoming more hysterical by the second.

Carla couldn't move, she'd blocked out the screaming entirely, a high pitched white noise filling her mind. It felt like she was suffocating, like the air was squeezing her body, a thick band of terror crushing her bones, tightening around her organs, limiting the oxygen she was desperately trying to take in.

' _It's not nice is it? Being crushed to death._ ' Carla let out hum of fear, squeezing her eyes shut. Run. Run, now. They're coming.

Snatching her bag, she moved faster than was healthy for her abused body, ignoring the way her head span and the room lurched, the muted colours inside the Rover's blurring into one mess of brown and read smeared haplessly across a canvas; she just needed to run.

"Carla, wait!" Michelle cried over Kate's shoulder, she'd managed to get to the younger girl who had broken down completely, sobbing into her hands and then into Michelle's chest when she'd wrapped her arms around her. All she'd caught was the whip of chestnut hair and the slam of the door, her eyes swivelling to the now empty booth had confirmed exactly who she'd seen leaving.

"Go after her, then!" She pointed at Peter, who looked like he wanted to snap back at her for the way she was demanding orders of him, but even he was able to grasp that it was stupid to argue when it had been what he was going to do anyway. With a heavy sigh, he picked up Carla's mobile which Kate had dropped into the bar and made his way towards the door.

"Message me as soon as you've got her!"

 **A/N: So I've realised I suck at writing angst, I find it difficult to leave things hanging and I just want to put every single idea I have into one huge chapter, but I'm working on building things slowly. Plus, it physically pains me to write certain scenes. I've not made this chapter too graphic but just a warning that this has been the set up for darker scenes to come. I've kept this semi-accurate to the show I think— there were some scenes I physically couldn't bring myself to write but hopefully this chapter was okay. The ideas I have don't run in line with what's going to happen (as far as I'm aware) so from here on I'll probably be putting my own spin on Carla's illness and delving further into her psychosis. I'll put warnings on the chapters but none of them are going to be easy reading and they'll potentially be quite triggering.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has stuck by this so far! It honestly hurt to write this.**


	5. Chapter 5

It was through the back door, she snuck. She could have easily used the front door, it was right next to the Rover's but they'd be expecting that. Someone was watching her. So she'd sidled around the back and crept into number one, fearfully glancing over her shoulder. The house was silent, no Eccles scurrying over and winding herself around Carla's ankles, purposely trying to trip her up. Even the dog hated her. Ken must have taken it out for an evening walk. She sidled over to the sofa and sat down, trying to think about what to do next. Rana was alive, that's why she'd been able to hear her. That's why she's been dreaming about her. She was so clearly alive and she knew what Carla had done. Panic flared in her chest and she plunged her hand into her pocket, only to realise her phone was still in the hands of Peter. So now he had access to Rana and she'd be telling him how bad she was, that she needed to pay. Carla needed to stop it. Snatching the laptop from the coffee table, she sprung the lid, her fingertips smashing furiously against the keyboard and she tried to access her social media page through it. It wouldn't connect.

"Service error," she muttered out loud, hitting the refresh button to no avail. Error. She'd made a drastic one, not having the roof fixed. That's why Rana was so angry at her. Her eyes widened in realisation. _The laptop was rigged._ It wasn't working because someone had tampered with it. Someone who wanted her to realise she'd made an error. She moved back from the device sharply, staring at it in terror. How? Had they been in the house? They must have known she'd be out. How did they know? Was Peter already in on it? Maybe it was Ken.

 _The webcam._ Carla's eyes fixated on the small, black lens in horror, her breathing becoming laboured. That's how they knew, they'd been watching her. All this time, watching her every move. She flew to the decorative cabinet, knocking several of the framed photos over in her haste to pull open the drawers. A vase of flowers wobbled dangerously as she began to ransack them, her fingertips shaking. Out came phone chargers, batteries, other connecting cables, a pack of cards, Peter's spare lighter... No, she needed something else. She ripped open the next one, the dark, polished wood creaking in protest at her volatile treatment. There was another set of playing cards, scissors, a role of sellotape, _blu-tak_. Yes. That would work. Ripping off a chunk of the sticky substance, she balled it up between her fingertips and pressed it firmly against the small camera, flopping down onto the sofa in relief once she had. Sweat was beading on her forehead and she wiped it away, still panting.

"They can't see me now," she uttered weakly into the silence.

Pulling her tired frame up, she wandered back over to the drawers and started to place everything back haphazardly. There were so many cables. Why did a home with so few residents have so many wires? What were they for? What were they connected to? She cast her eyes upwards, catching her own, desperate reflection in the glass.

"Carla!"

A cry of shock fell from her mouth and she span around. Peter was setting his keys down on the table. She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Why are you sneaking up on me?" She snapped, causing his eyebrows to descend down his forehead in a confused frown.

"You just ran off, I was worried! You left your phone."

He held it out to her, but she didn't take it. He'd done something to it.

"Look, those messages were just someone's sick idea of a wind up. Don't stress over them."

"I know, I'm not. I just needed some space." She shrugged, moving to sit down at the table. There was no way she was going to let slip that she'd caught wind of what was going on. He might tell. The stark trill of his own ringtone caused her to start and he looked put out himself, but answered it anyway.

"Michelle. Yeah I've got her— well because I've only just sat down!" His tone was impatient.

" _Well is she okay? Let me speak to her."_

Sighing, he held his phone out to Carla. Again, she refused to take it.

"Carla, it's just Michelle. She wants to talk to you."

What if that was a trick? It might not be Michelle.

"Can I get her to call you back?" Peter braced himself for the earful he knew he was going to get.

" _Just give her the phone!_ " Michelle demanded, worry laced in her words. " _I want to know she's okay."_

"I don't think she wants to talk. She looks exhausted."

It sounded like Michelle was going enormous effort to keep her cool. He could hear her clattering around down the line, what sounded like the heavy slam of a draw accompanied by the rattle of cutlery.

" _Tell her I'm coming to see her."_

"What?" Peter pressed the phone against his ear; his dad had just arrived home, greeted them cheerily and the dog was excitedly running around his feet, jumping up at his lap in the hopes of a fuss.

" _Are you being deliberately thick?_ " She snapped, her patience wearing thin. Ken quietly announced he was going to retire earlier than usual to start his new book. _"I said tell her I'm coming to see her."_

"For God sake, Michelle, have you seen the time? She's absolutely—"

The phone was plucked out of his hands. Carla had heard her frantic tone even across the table. It was safe. It was her.

"'Chelle?"

" _Carla? Hey, darling. Are you okay_?" The sharpness in her voice was instantly replaced by a softness that cushioned her ears.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I'm sorry I ran off, I got a bit overwhelmed, that's all." Carla reassured her, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm just tired."

" _I'm going to come and see you tomorrow, okay?"_

Carla closed her eyes and nodded, before realising Michelle wouldn't be able to see her response. She thought maybe if the younger woman could keep talking to her all night like this, there was a slim chance she could drop to sleep. Possibly.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

" _Try and get some sleep tonight, you're making yourself ill._ "

Carla's face fell. Everyone was saying how tired she looked. Everyone wanted her to sleep. They wanted an easy target, to catch her when she was unaware. With a sinking feeling, she suddenly regretted running from those messages. She needed to confront Rana, put a stop to this. Maybe if she apologised and made her see it was an accident, then they'd leave her alone. It was vital she spoke to Rana. The panic that had only just dissipated flared once more. They'd seen her run, like the rotten coward she was and now they were waiting until she'd fallen to sleep.

"I will, I'll see you tomorrow." Carla replied smoothly, her voice giving no indication of the turmoil she was in. She hung up the phone before Michelle could respond and slid it back to Peter, anxious to get to her own phone.

"I've got the early shift tomorrow," he groaned, pulling himself up from the table, glancing uncertainly across at Carla who was fixated on device in front of her. "Don't be too late heading up, yourself, yeah? And no more stressing about those messages."

He offered her a warm smile, bidding her goodnight. Carla waited. She waited until she sound if the upstairs tap had stopped. Her ears tuned into the creak of the floorboards as Peter padded across the landing, his mattress squeaking when he settled down into it. She waited a few more moments and then got up to close the door.

Snatching her phone from the table, she bolted into the kitchen, closing that door to put as much distance between them, so they wouldn't hear her. Her hands shook as she scrolled down her contacts, her thumb hovering hesitantly over Rana's. There were tears on her cheeks already. She braced herself, hitting the call button, waiting on baited breath for the sound of Rana's voice to reach her ears. She was expecting it to be cold, fierce, like the dreams that had plagued her.

It went straight to voicemail.

"Rana, please, please you've got to answer me. I'm so, so sorry." She sobbed, falling back against the counter and sliding down it. Hitting the hard, laminate floor, she brought her knees up to her chest, holding herself. "It was an accident, I swear." She had to make her see how sorry she was, she had to realise. "I never meant for it to happen. Rana just speak to me, I'm begging you. I'm so sorry."

 **IXIXIXI**

Michelle rapped against the door of number one, waiting anxiously for a response. She'd been up early that morning, having not slept properly the night before, too busy worrying about Carla.

"Oh, hiya Ken. Is Carla in?"

"Yeah, come in. I'm glad you're here actually, I was just heading out. Peter isn't back until dinner time and I think she could use a friend." He shot Michelle a saddened smile and she felt the unease prickle along her arms. She stepped through into the Barlow's living room, concern mounting and when she finally came face to face with Carla, she let out a gasp.

Sat on the end cushion of the sofa, backed as far into the corner as she could get, Carla was sat with her knees against her chest. She was staring blankly at the tv, the picture reflecting in her eyes. They had a glazed look to them, the whites now a sore pink. Her lips were faded in colour, dry, a full cup of untouched tea by the floor. The oversized jacket she was bundled up in completely buried her frame, even her leggings were now loose on her angular limbs. She looked frightening. Michelle thought she looked less human and more like something she'd seen shuffling along the streets in one of Ryan's disturbing video games; gaunt faces and empty eyes, withering bodies. Her head turned slowly to face Michelle, but her eyes didn't light up in recognition the way they usually did. No cheerful 'hiya, darling', no kiss on the cheek, no hassled story about the barista giving her the wrong coffee and her terrifying him into giving her a week's worth of free ones for her trouble.

"Oh god, look at you." Michelle whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes filled before she could stop them and she moved to get to Carla, reaching up to cup her cheek. She was scarily pale. "You haven't slept at all, have you?"

The older brunette blinked slowly, wincing at how dry her eyes felt. How could she have possibly tried to sleep when that's what everyone was waiting for. She looked at Michelle imploringly, willing her to understand. But she couldn't because she might be part of it and that hurt. She'd always been there, always understood, but this time she'd gone too far and now she despised her just as much as everyone else did, she was always pushing sleep.

"I _can't_." She rasped, voice raw from the lack of use that morning and the amount of time she'd spent sobbing in the kitchen the night before.

Michelle pressed her lips together when the lower one trembled, trying to keep her own emotions at bay. She couldn't stop herself from sliding her arms around Carla, gently guiding her tense frame into her chest. "I'm taking you home tonight," she choked, brushing her hand over the other woman's back when she refused to relax against her. "You're coming home."

"They don't want me there." Carla mumbled, leaning in closer when a familiar scent caught her senses. It felt comfortable, sort of safe. She couldn't quite work out what it was, why it felt like like a tiny blanket of security. It wasn't much, a thin sheet against winter's harshest winds, but it was something and she clung to it. Her nose automatically nuzzled into the crook of the other woman's neck, the perfume seemed to be emanating from there.

"I don't care, _I_ want you there. I'm going to take care of you." Michelle curled her arms more comfortably around Carla when she sunk further into her, whispering the words into her hair. As painfully light as she was, Michelle could practically feel the heaviness of the the fatigue that plagued Carla's tiny figure. She wondered how long it would be until her body physically couldn't cope with the lack of sleep and shut off despite her efforts to fight it.

Carla was so confused, Michelle sounded like she wanted to take care of her. But if she did, then she was stupid because now they'd be after her too. And Michelle wasn't stupid. So was this just another ploy to lull her to sleep? The pull of it was so strong now, her lids were heavy, that soothing perfume making her head light and hazy. _Stop, Carla. Don't fall to sleep, you can't fall to sleep..._

Three harsh bangs punctured the silence and the pair of them jumped, Carla instantly retreating back and curling in on herself.

"For god sake!" Michelle hissed under her breath, jumping up to see who it was at the door. She'd been _so_ close, so close to settling Carla. When she pulled it open, Kate's own expression matched hers.

"What're you—"

"What're you doing here?"

Michelle stepped aside to let the younger girl in.

"I'm not here to cause trouble. Or make friends." She moved into the living area. Whether or not the state of her older sister shocked her was anyone's guess, her poker face was stellar. "I just came to say I know who sent those messages from Rana's account and I've dealt with it. They won't be doing it again."

"Well who was it?" Michelle demanded angrily. She didn't see why they should have their name protected when Carla's was now mud.

"Alya."

"The conniving little—"

"Michelle! I've said I dealt with it. She's sorry, okay? Let that be the last of it." Kate's tone had a firm finality to it. Her gaze was still on Carla, who hadn't given any indication that she knew Kate was there. Her eyes were glassy though and Michelle thought she was trembling again.

"You're not going to look at me then?" Kate scoffed, shaking her head in disgust. "You're pathetic."

"Kate, that's enough!" Michelle snapped, her anger getting the better for her. She felt sorry for Kate, she knew how hard it was to lose someone you loved and to some extent she understood the anger, the need for someone to blame to make sense of such a devastating loss. But Carla was being punished enough and she looked like she was in the midst of some kind of nervous breakdown. Her lack of sleep was crippling Michelle with worry. She made her way over to the trembling woman and reached for her hand. Carla gripped onto it too tightly.

Kate let out a humourless laugh, regarding their joined hands with contempt.

"I should've known she'd wind you around her little finger. She'll break you, Michelle. She's not worth it."

With that, she turned on heel and left the house, the door slamming behind her. Michelle turned to Carla and was agonised to find the tears on her cheeks, her skin even more sallowed, as though she was about to throw up.

"It's okay, it's okay, she's just upset and she's not thinking. Come here." But Carla wouldn't go to her and her second attempt to reach out was interrupted when her phone sang out. Impatiently, she reached into her pocket and jabbed the reject button. Robert could wait. She'd only just placed her mobile on the arm of the sofa when it pinged twice, two angry looking messages popping up on her screen.

"Who's that?" Carla whispered fearfully, eyeing the screen with wide eyes. She brought her hand up to her mouth, her teeth picking anxiously at the skin around her thumbnail.

"It's just Robert, I'm due at work but he can wait."

More reason for Robert to hate her.

"Does he know you're with me?"

"Who? Robert? No, darling." Michelle frowned, confused at her sudden interest in her ex.

Carla shook her head, dropping it into her hands and clutching at her hair. Robert has been in on it all along. He was the one who'd started it. "He does. He's trying to get to me too."

"What?"

"He threatened me before, put a brick through my car window." Carla was rocking back and forth, a pained hum escaping her lips. Maybe Michelle wasn't aware, but Robert was obviously using their friendship to get to her.

"He did _what_?" Michelle's voice raised automatically, her disgust evident. He'd kept that extremely quiet when he'd decided to throw Carla's name to the gallows. "Why?"

"Because. He knows." Was all she uttered. Michelle froze, a pulse of fear throbbing in her chest.

"What— about—about _us_?" She latched onto the only conclusion there was, one she was reluctant to bring up especially considering Carla's delicate frame of mind.

"No, that I'm bad. I'm full of badness."

Michelle was bewildered at Carla's answer. Her friend must be so overcome with guilt. The older brunette let out a sob and shrank back against the sofa once more, her hands still tangled in her hair. It was a sound that tore through Michelle, severed her heartstrings; Carla truly believed what she was saying. Cautiously, she inched closer to her, trying to catch a glimpse of her face which was obscured by her dark hair. It didn't look to have been brushed, for how long was anyone's guess, the dark tresses were hanging down in tangled clumps. Michelle swallowed. _How_ had she allowed her to get into this much of a state? Carla wasn't the only one carrying guilt.

"Carla, you're not bad." She spoke softly, the words still audible above her quiet sniffling. When she didn't respond, Michelle carefully pushed back her hair, cautious not to tug at it and slid a fingertip beneath her chin. "Hey, look at me. You are _not_ bad. _I_ don't think you're bad."

Carla dragged her swollen eyes up to meet Michelle's. They held the same care and concern that they had at the graveyard. She'd been so sincere then too. The younger brunette's own eyelashes were damp, the hazel tones burning with sincerity. Still studying her face intensely, Carla reached up and placed her hands over Michelle's cheeks. The warmth of her skin against her palms reminded her of last time, when everyone had been watching her, when Peter had lied and then she'd taken her hand and it had been okay for a second. She let her thumbs glide against her skin, inching closer and inhaling deeply, catching that soothing scent.

"You're not like the others."

"Who, darling?" Michelle was watching her carefully, wondering if it might be worth calling Ali. Carla's eyes still didn't seem like they were fully focused on her, there was still a blankness in them that scared her. She was worried that lack of sleep was causing this increasingly delirious behaviour.

"The others. Who think I'm bad." Carla's voice cracked, moisture tricking from beneath her lids. They were irritating her skin and providing the only hint of colour on her face as they rubbed her cheeks raw.

"Imran and Kate, they're just grieving. They're just upset and they'll come around." Michelle assured her, hoping there was truth to her words. She believed they couldn't be angry at Carla forever, but even if they were, she wasn't going to let her suffer their wrath anymore. With gentle fingertips, she brushed the other woman's tears away. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Why do you want to look after me?" Carla sniffed, the one part she was struggling to work out. Why, when everyone else was out to get her, did Michelle seem to want to do things so differently. It scared her. What if they decided to come for Michelle too? She wasn't sure she could protect them both; she was barely managing to protect herself. "I don't want to break you."

Michelle's face softened. She shook her head at Carla's words, a huge lump wedged itself in the back of her throat. Unable to respond out of fear of breaking down, she wrapped one of hands around the other woman's, which was still against her face and secured the other around her, trying to coax her into her chest. Carla looked like she was battling with herself, her eyes sweeping longingly over Michelle, craving the comfort she knew she'd be provided with.

"I want to look after you because I care about you. You're so special to me, you know that don't you?" Michelle whispered, finding the older woman's eyes with her own, attempting to get through whatever was blocking her gaze, the blank film that seemed to have descended over the green orbs that usually allowed her to see straight through to her soul. It was a connection she had taken for granted, being able to look at her and know something was wrong, be able to pick out what emotion she was feeling. All she could see was that same lost look. And fear. Carla was scared. "I'm here for you, I promise."

Cautiously, Carla shuffled closer. Her movements were still guarded, like she needed to be ready to bolt at any second. She dipped down into the crook of Michelle's neck once more, inhaling deeply against her skin, the familiar calm invading her senses. It was just enough to silence the whirring thoughts in her head, the ongoing, torturous war that was trying to work out if Michelle was truly on her side. Friend or foe. Her body was so exhausted, begging her brain to let it rest, to sleep. The way the younger woman's hand cradled the side of her head, so gently, her thumb brushing across her brow enough to start to brush away any doubts she had about her with it. Through increasingly heavy lids, Carla just about managed to pull her gaze upwards once more.

"You're not ashamed of me?"

At the timid release of her question, Michelle's resolve cracked. Her throat cramped painfully and she released a sob, shaking her head. "No, God, no." She screwed her eyes up tight, the question physically paining her, her stomach uncomfortably knotted with guilt. Michelle pulled her closer, until she was fully in her lap, bringing her hand down to cup her cheek.

"I should never have said that, Carla. I was angry and upset," the younger woman sniffed, looking stricken, her fingertip stroking over her skin as she spoke. "I let my emotions get the better of me and I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The appearance of her tears made Carla automatically want to reach up and erase them, but Michelle inched forward and pressed her lips against her forehead. It was such a _loving_ gesture, the kiss soft and lingering; she allowed her eyes to flutter shut, feeling the moisture speckling her skin when the younger woman struggled to regain control of her emotions. "Sorry, sorry. Look at me, crying all over you." Michelle apologised again when she pulled back, wiping her own tears from above Carla's brow before settling her arms back around her.

Carla didn't speak, but did let her head drop back against Michelle's shoulder and slid an arm across her waist, willing herself to relax. Michelle _was_ safe. That she had to believe. If she didn't, she'd have no one and the thought of the other woman being against her made her stomach roll with nausea, fear prickling along her shoulders. She just wanted it to stop. Her head hurt with the contradicting voices, her whole body ached with exhaustion. Michelle was watching her, weaving careful fingertips into her hair, pushing strands behind her ear and repeating the soothing strokes. Silent tears oozed slowly from under the older woman's sticky lashes, pooling in the deep crevices beneath her eyes; her body was even too drained to cry.

"Carla, it's okay. You _can_ sleep," It was almost a plea from Michelle, a desperate murmur against her hair, which she laced a reassuring kiss into. Even if it hadn't have been okay, she wouldn't have been able to stop it. Her weakened form had finally given up. Michelle felt the moment it had done so, felt Carla's body relax fully for the first time into her own, how her breath released in gentle, steady sighs.

For a while, Michelle didn't move. She daren't move. If there was even the slightest chance it might disturb Carla, she wasn't risking it. Instead, she basked in the silence, listening to the sound of the other woman's inhales as they deepened further, her exhales becoming even more drawn out and calm. She finally looked peaceful, the groove that had seemed permanently etched between her brow with worry was smoothed out. It hurt, she didn't think it would stop, knowing that she'd let her down so badly. She nuzzled into her hair, it was coarse and unkempt and needed washing but it didn't matter. It had never mattered, not since they were kids back in the estate and hot water was so few and far between for Carla that she rarely bothered wasting it on looking after her hair. Michelle hadn't let it stop her from holding her when she'd needed it back then and it wouldn't stop her now. Not when Carla was hurting so much.

"I'll never let you down, again." Michelle whispered into the quiet, her eyes filling with certainty. She meant it with every beat of her heart.

It was quiet, only the gentle sound of Carla sleeping and the steady ticking of the clock to keep her occupied, but she didn't mind in the slightest. She'd sit there all night if she had to. She sat right up until the sound of the key in the lock scratched into the silence and two voices conversed in the hallway.

"—and I said I'm happy to check over any of his work if he needed—"

Michelle flipped her head around desperately as the door opened, raising her finger to her lips to shush Ken and Peter, who quickly moved to stop the dog from jumping up at the pair. Their voices hushed in an instant.

"You managed to get her to sleep?" Peter looked half shocked, half relieved.

"I think it was more that she passed out." Michelle murmured quietly, absentmindedly brushing her hand over her hair. "I need to get to the Bistro to sort out cover, but then I'll be straight back. I'm going to ask Ali to come too and have a look at her, I don't think she's well." _And I'm taking her home,_ Michelle mentally added, though didn't think the statement would be appreciated and the last thing she needed was to get into a heated debate with Peter. It wouldn't solve anything and would only succeed in waking Carla up.

"It's because she isn't sleeping, she might feel better after this." Peter hoped, his eyes falling to the sleeping woman. It was the most peaceful he'd seen her over the last few days and it was relieving. "Here, I'll help."

Michelle had been attempting to get up from the sofa, sliding herself carefully off the seat while still keeping one arm around her. Peter placed one of the cushions in the space Michelle had vacated, his hand replacing hers by her head as he lowered her down into it. Anger stabbed in her chest so abruptly that it jarred her. She bit her tongue in annoyance, she had no reason to be angry. He was _helping_. Waiting to see if Carla stirred, the relief that had started to sweep through her was once more brought to a harsh halt to make way for another stinging shower of envy; Peter had leaned down again the brush the hair that had fallen across Carla's face. The action was caring, he tucked it behind her ear and allowed his hand to settle lightly on her shoulder. Michelle felt her lip curl and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from vocalising the unwarranted shout that was pulsing in her head: _get off her._ Dragging her eyes to the clock so she wouldn't have to look at him, she willed herself to calm down. She had no right to feel that way and it wasn't needed or helpful. Self disgust burned in the pit of her stomach. It wouldn't help Carla and that's all that mattered right now.

"I need to get going. I'll be an hour at the very most. Tell her if she wakes up, yeah?" Michelle dared to cast her gaze back to them. Peter wasn't even looking at her, but he nodded in response to her question. Forcing a smile onto her lips, she bid goodbye to Ken and quickly left the premises.

"Right, I'll put the kettle on." Ken nodded, keeping his voice low. He gestured to Eccles to follow him into the kitchen; she needed feeding anyway.

The kettle wasn't loud and he'd closed the door, just a dull whirring of white noise, but a low hum sounded from the pillow beside him and Peter let out a groan of disappointment. "Oh, no come on love, you need to sleep," he whispered desperately, willing her eyes to stay closed. His heart sank when they flickered, hazy green peeking out from heavy lids, dazed for a second before widening drastically and she flew up with a gasp.

"Where's Michelle? What did you do?" Her breathing sped up and she pulled away from his attempt to comfort her.

"What? She's just gone to work, Carla. She's coming back soon."

"Why did I fall to sleep?" She was talking to herself, this time, tangling her hands in her hair. "I shouldn't have fallen to sleep." Jumping up from the sofa, she paced backwards, putting more distance between them.

"Carla?" The kitchen door opened and Ken appeared from it, holding two mugs. He looked alarmed to see her looking so manic when moments before she'd been tranquil. "You're exhausted, here why don't you take one of these and see if you can get back to sleep?" He offered the tea he'd just made out to her and she stared at it. Yeah, she'd definitely fall asleep if she drank that. No wonder they were so keen to get her to drink it. Mug after mug they'd made her, it had gone untouched each time.

"No, thanks."

"Come on, Carla. Sit down and have a drink—"

"I don't want your flamin' tea!" Carla screamed out hysterically, batting it from the bewildered man's hands. "You keep trying to get me to drink it, but I know you've done something to it!" She continued to back away towards the kitchen, the pounding in her head back with full force, the jittering whispering in her mind trying to warn her. _Don't drink anything they give you._

"I'll get my own drink." She turned to go into the kitchen, closing the door behind her and running the tap to provide the noise distraction. Sidling back up to the door, she pressed her ear against it. She could here them mumbling. They were whispering about her.

"Peter, she's not well." Ken told him gravely, keeping his voice low. "I think we need to call someone."

"I know, I know," he sighed, still mopping up the tea that had splashed all over the carpet. He didn't want to go to her, not until he'd given her a moment to calm down.

Carla's eyes widened. This was it. They were going to get someone to lock her away. She needed to get out.

"Michelle said she was going to let Ali know. I'll text her and—" he broke off. The kitchen tap had been running for a while now. Jumping up in horror, he bolted for the kitchen door and threw it open, letting out a groan when he saw the back door wide open, the gate swinging slightly in the breeze. The garden was empty.

 **IXIXIXI**

"You're over an hour late!" Robert fumed the moment Michelle stepped through the door. She cast her eye around the empty Bistro and raised her eyebrow sceptically.

"Yeah, we're rushed off our feet." She started, making her way around the bar to check the rota. "I can't stay anyway, I'm going to—"

"Oh, no. You are staying. We're short staffed."

"What?" Michelle panicked, loading up the rota from the business iPad screen; she'd been sure there was ample cover and definitely staff on hand to choose from to cover her shift. She didn't want to leave Carla alone too long despite the fact that Peter was looking after her. On her way across she'd already fired off a text to Ali, telling him she was bringing the other woman back to the Rover's and wanted him to have a look at her.

"Daniel's called in sick, we don't have Ali anymore and Ryan's about as much use as a wet tea towel—"

"Oi!"

Robert ignored her protest and continued to relay the busy day ahead. "We've got three big booking's today and that health inspector is still knocking about the Street. He gives me the creeps. I don't want him coming in here and finding anything amiss."

"Well, what about Bethany?" Michelle suddenly remembered, scrolling through to try and find her contact details.

"She can hardly man the bar as well as waitress!"

"Well call some agency staff—"

"No, Michelle. _You_ call some agency staff." Robert snapped, throwing down the cloth he was holding. The bar didn't even need cleaning, clearly getting wind of a health inspector circling the street had put the frighteners on him. "I've got food to prepare. And don't you _dare_ leave until they all turn up."

"Excuse me?" Michelle scoffed, whipping around to face him, her arms folding in defiance across her chest. "Exactly who the hell do you think you're talking to?"

"Well you insisted you wanted to be a part of this business so unless you want to run it into the ground—"

"No, shut up and listen to me a second." She spoke harshly, her eyes suddenly wired with anger. Her patience was wearing so thin and as much as she cared about the Bistro's continuing success, it definitely wasn't high on her list of priorities at that moment. "I co-own this business, you're right. Which means you don't get to speak to me like that! Falling into the habit of bullying women, are we?"

Robert looked bewildered at her accusation, his face creasing in confusion. "What're you talking about?"

"I know what you did to Carla. To her car."

"Ah, right." Robert nodded, a bitter scoff forced from his chest. "Well I'm surprised it's taken you this long to bring it up. I bet she went running to you—"

"She's only just told me. What were you thinking? And _why_?"

Robert raised his eyebrow, wondering if Michelle was testing him.

"Oh don't play innocent. She's been waiting for an opportunity to drive a wedge between us."

"Are you tapped? What are you going on about?"

Robert laughed outright, dark eyes glinting with malice. There was genuine humour in his tone. He couldn't believe Michelle thought he was as stupid and oblivious as she seemed to be acting.

"Come on, Michelle, give it up." He shook his head, eyeing her confused frown with amusement. "You two make up and I'm suddenly out of the picture? I knew she was injecting her poison, I just didn't think you'd succumb to it so easily."

Michelle swallowed, unsure of where he was going with this. She decided to remain silent, wait for him to speak. He was eyeing her expectantly, one of his eyebrows raised cockily. The arrogance across his face when he thought he was right was a quality that made him so ugly in that moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Look at you, of course you do. You're scared to death." He eye'd her with mock pity across his face, his brow creased in false sympathy. "How could you want a baby with me, when you're in love with someone else?"

Michelle sucked in a sharp breath, her face dropping. Though she fought hard to keep her face passive, the fear radiated in her eyes and she exhaled sharply, trying to formulate a response.

"Robert, I really don't know what you mean. This is stupid; we broke up because we wanted completely different things."

"Yeah, I want a baby and you want Carla."

Michelle shook her head automatically, blinking the moisture from her eyes. Her lower lip trembled and she found she couldn't look Robert in the eye.

"I don't." She whispered, her voice cracking slightly. It was a feeble protest; she cleared the throat, trying to muster her voice to reply more firmly. Robert didn't give her the chance.

"You don't think I noticed? The way you fell out with her the moment rumours about her and Peter circulated, how you hate him just a little too strongly for someone only concerned about a friend. Our flat full of photos of the pair of you, it was staring me in the face the whole time." He reeled then off casually, but the hurt was beginning to seep into his face. Robert looked as upset as Michelle did terrified. She still hadn't spoke, but her eyes were glassy and she thought he must be able to hear how loudly her heart was racing.

"I've seen the way you look at her. You never looked at me like that, not ever." He finished defeatedly, a heavy sigh following the last of his rant. The words had physically pained him, but he felt oddly alleviated now he'd said it. "Anyway, I've got stuff to prepare so—" he rolled his shoulder, turning to go into the kitchen. "Sort the staff issue out."

Michelle watched him disappear only realising how hard she was gripping into the iPad when the screen bubbled beneath her thumb, a dull, muted rainbow of colour appearing it protest of the pressure. She dropped it down onto the bar, taking a deep breath. Robert couldn't be right. He _couldn't_ be. She cared about Carla; part of the panic that was still radiating in her chest was down to concern for the other brunette's health. It was that which jolted her to the pressing issue, she couldn't afford to dwell on whatever Robert thought or even the way her own feelings were muddled in her head. All that mattered was helping Carla through whatever it was that was plaguing her and helping her family. Blinking back tears and pulling her phone from her pocket and trying to stop the way her hands still trembled as she typed out a message.

' _Stuck at work a little bit longer, sorry sweetheart. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours. Stay with Peter and then I'll come and take you home. Xxx'_

She hovered over the send button, erasing the the three kisses and scrutinising the text for a moment longer, before rolling her eyes and adding them back in, scolding herself for her stupidity and finally sending the message.

 **IXIXIXI**

Carla was fixated on the factory, looking up at the ruin with wide, tearful eyes. Was she still in there? Would she be waiting for her? She paid no notice to the jagged rocks that littered the cobbles as she stepped on them, the sharp edges cutting into her skin. The pain didn't register in her mind. She wrapped her fingertips around the metal barriers, blood pounding in her head.

"Rana," She whispered quietly, the tears splashing down her cheeks. "Are you here? It's—it's me; I just want to talk."

"Carla! What're you doing?"

She span around with a gasp, stumbling back at the appearance of him. He'd followed her, he'd come to get her.

"Stay away from me." She whispered, her voice trembling.

Peter held his hands up, coming to a halt. "Okay, I'm not coming any closer. But it's not safe here."

"It's not safe for me anywhere, not near you."

"What do you mean?" He asked gently, taking in her dishevelled appearance. Having gone completely the wrong way around when he'd dashed out after her, he'd spent a good chunk of time chasing down the back streets and peering into back gardens to see if she'd taken refuge in there, asking confused neighbours if they'd see which way she'd gone.

"What do you mean it's not safe with me?"

"I know why you're here. I heard you and Ken whispering about me. You're with them, aren't you?"

"With who?" Peter was starting to panic now, Carla wasn't making any sense at all.

"The others. They want me gone. They're going to lock me up. They think I'm rotten."

"We weren't talking about sending you away, I swear we weren't." He assured her, keeping his tone soft. "Who thinks you're rotten? Who's 'they', Carla?"

"Everyone!" She whispered, her eyes darting around the street. Peter was already here, how long before the others showed up? Why had she come to the Factory? That's exactly where they'd have expected her to go and now she was cornered. "They want me gone. Because of Rana."

Peter tried to take a step closer, one small, cautious step but Carla flew back, stumbling over more of he rubble from the factory ruins. She didn't even wince, not when when the gravel sliced into her feet and blood beaded from the wound. He stopped walking for fear she'd injure herself further, his features softening.

"Oh, love, what's happened to you?" He whispered, realisation suddenly hitting him. This was more than sleep deprivation and grief. Carla needed professional help. He stretched his hands out, shuffling an inch closer, as though approaching a cornered animal. That's what she looked like, a tortured, wild animal that was trapped by its prey, eyes wide with panic, frozen with fear, defeat beginning to dull her eyes as she resigned herself to her fate. It was painful.

"Where's Michelle? Did they get her? Because she wanted to help me." Carla suddenly asked, looking stricken. "Or was she... Was she part of it all along? Is that why she left? But she wouldn't— she—" breaking off, she let out a desperate sob, leaning heavily against the metal barrier. She didn't know what to do, how to escape. It was dangerous, being so out in the open.

"You're frightened, aren't you?"

She nodded, curling her arms around herself. Of course she was terrified. She'd been spied on for days, had her every move watched, there were people who wanted her to pay for what she'd done. Especially Rana.

"Well I'll tell you what we'll do," Peter tried again to move close to her, a wave of relief washing over him when she didn't automatically flinch away. "We'll go to the medical centre, because it's safe there."

"Safe." Carla breathed, latching on to the word. Safe. She needed to go somewhere safe. She glanced up at him, trying to work out if he was lying. He could just be tricking her. It might not be safe, it might be a trap. He might be luring her somewhere, because she was bad and she needed to be punished for all the lives she'd ruined. Rana was right, she did destroy everything she touched.

"Yeah, I promise. Look at me, you're safe with me. I'm not going to hurt you." He'd managed to place his hand on her arm, cautiously sliding it further until it was curled around her shoulder. "Come on, it's okay, it's okay," Peter continued to coax, letting out a puff of air when she relented and leaned into him, allowing him to guide her over the cobbles. "That's it, careful watch those rocks." He steered her around them. She didn't protest but he could feel how tense her frame was against his own.

Carla was rapidly trying to figure out a plan in her head. She'd be safe at the medical centre, but what then? She could barricade herself in one of the rooms, but surely someone would break it down. Glancing wearily over her shoulder, she tried to pick out anyone who could be watching her. There was a man walking his dog further behind them, but he was too far away for her to know if she recognised him or not. She tried to think back to all the people she'd passed over the last few days, trying to picture their faces in her head. If she could, then she had a chance of being able to work out who she should avoid. But her head throbbed and the faces blurred and she let out a frustrated cry, stopping in her tracks.

"Hey come on, we're nearly there." Peter pressed, his hand on her back to prevent her from turning and running. "Just through these doors and then we'll be safe."

It was a mistake. She shouldn't have trusted him. As soon as they entered the building she knew something was wrong. It was too bright, too light, they flickered overhead, exposing her, illuminating her; a walking target lit up for everyone to see. And everyone did see. Because they were all watching her. The waiting room was full. Some were pretending to read magazines, some even had children with them for authenticity. Carla stopped walking again, refusing to move.

"They're all watching me." She bit out, shrugging Peter's hand from her shoulder when he attempted to placate her.

"They're not, they're just here to see the Doctor that's all. Come on, no one is watching you."

One of the nurses walked by reception, dropping a prescription to Moira behind the desk who thanked her and tucked it into a file.

 _Are you going to run again, coward? Face me. Face up to what you did._

Carla gasped, instantly realising why Peter had wanted to bring her here.

"Rana."

"What?" Peter turned to her, looking concerned.

"Rana's here, isn't she? Where is she? Where is she hiding?" Carla questioned, frantically, twisting her head around she she could check every corner of the room. If she saw her she could explain, she needed to explain. That's the only way she could make all of this stop.

"I'm sorry but if you haven't got an appointment—" Moira started to call out to them, but was interrupted by Toyah. She'd come out of her office to start her break, but hearing a voice question Rana's whereabouts had drawn her attention. Her eyes widened at the sight of Carla, the state she was in. Peter caught her eye, looking at her pleadingly.

"It's okay, I've got this." She nodded, making her way over to the pair. "Carla, why don't you come with me—"

"Are you taking me to Rana?"

"Carla, Rana died. Do you remember? When the factory collapsed."

The older brunette shook her head, placing her hands over her hears. It was too noisy in the room, too many people and Toyah was _lying_ to her.

"Okay, why don't you come with me? There's a quiet room just through here," she gestured in the direction and Carla looked reluctant to follow.

"Where's Michelle? Is she safe?"

"She's at work, at the Bistro." Peter assured her, trying to help Toyah direct her towards the quiet room.

"She hasn't done anything wrong, not like me. But they'd know that, wouldn't they? That she's good and so they won't hurt her... I'm the bad one, I'm the one they want to lock away." She babbled, shaking her get when Peter tried to move her along once more.

"Why don't you leave her with me? Maybe get her some shoes." She nodded. Peter looked reluctant, he didn't want to leave Carla on her own but he was at a loss at what he else he could do and she needed medical help. After a reassuring nod from Toyah, he relented and let Carla go, glancing worriedly over his shoulder before he reached the exit.

"Right come on, you, let's get you sat down. It's quieter in here." She lead Carla into the room at gestured for her to sit on the bed. As much as they had clashed in the past, it was terrifying to see what she'd been reduced to. This didn't look like Carla, sat hunched on the bed, dirtied and bleeding, her face drained of colour.

The older woman cast her eyes around the room, eyeing up the posters on the wall, the medical jargon blurring under her intense scrutiny. Her eyes fell on one depicting two syringes, a skull and crossbones symbol which bore the bright, purple caption, _Reminder: dispose of hazards properly._ She swallowed. Dispose of them how? That was her, wasn't it? A hazard. Rotten. That's what they all said. And now they wanted to dispose of her. Her breathing shallowed, fear causing the skin on her arms to prickle. There was a flower on her desk, with a dark rounded centre. Her stomach knotted.

"Is that a camera?" She demanded to know, pointing at it.

Toyah didn't act surprised at her outburst, just gave her desk a quick glance before speaking gently. "No, it was a present."

Carla scoffed disbelievingly, crossing her arms over herself. Why were they prolonging this?

"Where's Rana?"

"Carla," the counsellor's tone was still soft, not a hint of impatience. "Rana died, you remember don't you?"

She let out a scoff, shaking her head. "Did she though? Or are they just saying that as a test?"

"A test of what, Carla?"

Like she knew exactly what they'd got planned for her. If she knew that, she could have put a stop to it. But she didn't know anything. _They_ were the one's who'd been watching her. "I don't know. My badness." She snapped her mouth shut as soon as she'd spoken. The room didn't need a camera. Because she was _right there._ Right in front of her.

"Are you going to be relaying all of this back to your boyfriend?"

"What you tell me in here is confidential. You're completely safe."

Carla sneered, exhaling sharply through her nose. Safe. Yeah, right.

Toyah realised that she wasn't going to be able to calm Carla alone, that she was now beyond being talked into any kind of reason. Deciding that the older woman was more urgently in need of professional help, she rose from her seat, trying to give Carla a reassuring smile. One that wasn't reciprocated or at all believed.

"I won't be a minute, okay? Just put your feet up and relax."

It was a miraculous stroke of luck. Carla watched, her eyes wide, hardly daring to believe it when Toyah left the room, left her alone. With no camera's, no one around to see. Now was her chance. She could escape. But she had to be quick. Shuffling around, she tugged at the window, pushing it open. The blinds squeaked in protest against her actions as she forced them out of the way, hearing a few of them snap. That didn't matter, not anymore. She was getting away for real. She had to leave the street.

 **IXIXIXI**

Michelle checked her phone for the countless time that day as she made a dash across the cobbles; rain was starting to spot the pavement. Carla hadn't answered any of her messages, but maybe she'd fallen asleep. It wasn't like the poor woman didn't need it; every time Michelle had seen her she'd looked ready to collapse. She'd attempted to message Peter but he was apparently ignoring her too, even going as far as to knock on the door on her way to the pub. There'd been no answer and if Carla was sleeping, the last thing she wanted to do was wake her.

Bracing herself, she decided that she was going to try and tackle Kate once more, try and persuade her to let Carla come home. Although if this attempt didn't work, she had already decided that whether the young girl liked it or not, she'd be bringing her back to stay at the Rovers.

"Has Carla or Peter been in?" Michelle asked Johnny, the second she'd stepped into the admittedly inviting warmth and dryness of the pub. He was stood behind the bar, minus Jenny, and Kate was slumped over her phone, her nose wrinkling at the mention of her sister. Not the best start.

"Not for the last hour or so, Jenny was here before then."

"I've just knocked on as I passed but there was no answer." She sighed, placing her phone down against the surface of the bar before pulling a stool towards her.

"Maybe they've gone for a walk or something?"

"It's raining!"

"Well— Oh here look, were your ears burning?" Johnny let out a quick laugh as the pub doors open and Peter himself walked in, offering the man a smile.

Michelle didn't smile. And the one on Johnny's face soon fell as they took in his disheveled appearance. He was looking around the room expectantly, his dark eyes serious. Rain had drenched his hair, drops of it were dripping down his face, his green coat darkened across the shoulders where he'd been caught in the downpour. Johnny offered him one of the fresh towels from the pile that they kept folded beneath the bar.

"Is she here? Has she been here?" He demanded, forgoing the towel but pushing his hair back from where it had tried to flop down his forehead.

"What?"

"Carla. She's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?" Michelle snapped, worry starting to mount in her chest.

"I had to take her to the medical centre, she's not well. She's really not well." The urgency was prominent in his tone, but his voice sounded hoarse; the last couple of hours had drained him. "But she jumped out of the window and—"

"She _what_?" Michelle turned to face Johnny and Kate, even the younger girl couldn't keep the concern from her features, though she masked it quickly, dropping her gaze to her phone as though she couldn't care less about the conversation going on in front of her. "How— I was gone for half a shift! How have you managed to let this happen?"

"I turned my back for a second!" Peter defended, bristling at the accusation.

"Have you told the police?"

"They didn't seem to care. She hasn't been missing long enough."

At this she let out a groan of frustration, dropping her head into her hands for a moment before another spike of worry suddenly dug at her chest. Her head snapped up, eyes widening in realisation.

"Has she got her medication with her?"

"What?"

"Her immunosuppressants. Has she been taking them still?"

The blank expression on his face was all the confirmation, or lack of, that she needed. Michelle threw her hands up in frustration, her chest tightening with fear. "For goodness _sake_ , Peter!" She regarded him angrily, though knew a huge part of that fury was aimed at herself, for not staying, because if anything happened to Carla now she wasn't ever going to forgive herself. "You were supposed to be looking after her!"

"I have been looking after her." He retorted, allowing his own temper to flare when Michelle had tried to insinuate otherwise. He was the one who had offered her somewhere to stay when her so called family had turned their backs. "I'm the only one who really has been!"

"Cracking job you've done there, mate." She snapped, clapping her hands sarcastically.

"And what were you doing? Call yourself a best friend? You didn't even want her—"

"I _do_ want her!" Michelle shouted across him before he could even finish the sentence which clearly hadn't meant to end where she'd cut him off. Panic flashed in her eyes for a split second at her sudden outburst, mouth falling open as she grappled around for more words. "Back here, at home. With us. So I can take care of her."

"She won't want to come back here. I'm more than capable—"

"You didn't even realise she was starting to get ill!" There were tears in her eyes, because she knew. She _knew_ something had been wrong right from the moment she'd seen Carla at the graveyard. She'd looked so lost, so completely unlike herself that it had terrified Michelle and when she'd reached down for her hand, it was freezing, she'd been shaking. That tiny smile and the haunted look in her eyes had plagued the younger woman for days. "She should have been with me, I'd have seen it, I'd have known," she whispered, her hands sliding to cover her mouth, barely noticing that tears had spilled from her eyes and were resting on her cheeks.

"No one could have known—" Peter began, whether in an attempt to defend himself further or placate Michelle he wasn't sure, but whatever the desired effect, it seemed to have quite the opposite on her.

"Someone with an ounce of perception might have! Someone who was looking beyond the level of wanting to play the hero! Hoping you'd keep her to yourself, were you? Happy that she was keeping your bed warm again—"

"That's bang out of order and you know it!" Peter shouted, now every bit as furious as Michelle was. They stared one another down, the equal rage in their gazes enough to make the entire room buzz with fury. She loathed him, far more than she had a right to. He was everything she despised; a liar and a cheat, selfish and pigheaded, someone who went against all the morals she held. The complete opposite of her. But there was one huge thing that made them the same. Something their hearts had in common.

"Will you both pack it in?" Johnny decided to step in before the warring could escalate. Emotions were running high and Michelle had opened her mouth to argue back looking thunderous. "You two can stand here and fight all you like, but none of this is helping us find Carla."

"Oh she's not missing, she's wallowing!" Kate piped up, her tone laced with venom. Michelle looked at her incredulously. She knew she was grieving, but she thought that by now she'd have at least softened a little towards Carla. "Isn't this all just a bit overdramatic? Police? A search party? She'll be back when she's finished milking—"

"Kate, she's your sister!" Michelle couldn't hold back this time and when her cousin shot her a warning glance, eyebrows raised, she swallowed, bracing herself. But it didn't look like Kate was going to divulge any unwarranted information.

"She's not wallowing. For the last time, Carla's _ill_!"

Johnny turned to face Peter, his mouth upturned in distress. "Okay, right. Just tell us exactly what happened."

 **A/n: thank you for reading! I've already got the half of the next chapter written— originally this wasn't supposed to end here but it was already getting so long and the next half will be just as long and I remembered I'm supposed to be writing angst and building things slowly. I really suck at this ha! But thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. This chapter and the next one have been/will be really challenging for me to write and I really want to get it right, so I've been doing lots of research!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Tw: there are graphic descriptions of self harm in this chapter. See links at the end of the chapter for support. This chapter is pretty rough.**

Carla was running. She didn't know where to, she just knew she needed to run. They were all coming for her now. She needed to get somewhere safe. Somewhere no one would find her. Somewhere she wouldn't be recognised. Pulling her hood over her head, she stumbled down the path of the Red rec. The rain was getting heavier now, but that was a good thing. It meant no one would be around, so she wouldn't be seen. Lashings of torrential downpour obscured her vision, but it would obscure everyone else's too, so they wouldn't recognise her face. Her clothes were going to be soaked through, she was shivering, the gravelled path scraping against her feet. There was a bridge ahead, a small one and even through the rain she could see a tent that had been pitched beneath it, a woman stood by a bin fire. She tensed. They'd been waiting for her.

"Hey!" She called out and Carla braced herself to run again. Rana had sent her. There was no way she couldn't be seen. Rana was a nurse, Rana knew hundreds or people, maybe thousands. She'd helped and treated so many, she was good. So much better than Carla was. All of these people were on her side, how could they not be? How could she get away?

"Are you okay? Come under here, you'll be soaked through!"

She already was. The hoodie she'd been wearing was saturated, parts of it clinging to her skin. There was no running, but maybe she could convince them not to take her away. She had to at least try. Pulling the hood further around her face, she stepped under the bridge, her shoulders hunched. The flow of the fire was warm, but the embers spat menacingly at her. Like she was rotten.

"You're freezing, stand near the fire."

"It was an accident, I'm sorry." Carla whispered, looking up at her face. She was blonde, beneath a dark purple beanie with a small circle motif on the front, it bore the logo of a company. Yeah, she probably worked for one that specialised in spying. Was it a badge or was it another camera? People could hide all sorts of things. Camera's could be hidden between the bridge of glasses and the woman donned a pair, speckled with rain. She was trapped now, how could she have been so stupid? Why hadn't she run?

"What?" Clearly this girl was confused. She could have only been in her twenties, she was young. Rana was young, she had so many friends.

"You have to tell Rana I'm sorry."

"I don't know anyone called Rana, my name's Victoria. What's yours?"

Carla shook her head, as if she was going to divulge that information. The blonde cast her eyes down to Carla's attire.

"You've got no shoes. What's happened? Has someone hurt you? Are you running from someone? Look, we can help you." She frowned, her concern for Carla growing by the second. It was clear to her that there was something seriously wrong with the shaking brunette.

"We?" Carla whispered fearfully, stepping back. "There's more of you."

"It's just my friend and I—" she broke off, rattling the zip on the tent. "Mel— hey, Mel!" She called louder and Carla flinched again. "Sorry, she'll have her earphones in. We're doing a sponsored sleep out for charity to raise money for _Help the Homeless_ in Manchester." She explained, feeling it was best to keep Carla engaged in conversation. Finally managing to unzip the tent, she leaned in and yanked on the wire of her friend's earphones, pulling them free.

"Oi!" She protested, her own head peeking out of the tent. There was a fiery crop of curly red hair around her head, almost as vivid as the fire. Her eyes fell on Carla and she gave a start. "Who're you?"

"We haven't got around to that yet." Victoria spoke pointedly, shooting her friend a pointed look. "Pass me my trainers will you? I'm not going to be hiking in this weather."

She offered them to Carla, who didn't move. It's was a trick, whoever these two girls were, they were clearly trying to fool her, to take her in. The brunette could see straight through their act, kind smiles and charitable work. More goodness, specifically designed to remind her how bad she was, how she was rotten to the core. It was clever. But not clever enough.

"Look, you need shoes. You'll catch your death."

"Is that what they want to do to me? Is that what price I have to pay?" She whispered, her voice cracking. "I thought they just wanted to lock me up."

The two girls glanced uncertainly at one another.

"We don't know who you mean," Victoria spoke gently, placing the shoes down beside Carla in hopes that she would take them. "We can help you though, if you tell us."

With difficulty, Carla attempted to step into the shoes, stumbling slightly until the red headed girl jumped up to steady her, helping her into them. She flinched at her touch and retreated rapidly, her hands held in front of her as she backed against the stone wall of the bridge, looking at the pair pleadingly.

"You have to believe me, it was an accident."

"Okay, we believe you," Mel had stepped in, the blonde girl now at a loss of what to say. "Why don't you tell us your name? You already know mine, don't you? I'm Mel. My friend told you—"

"I've got a friend." Carla suddenly whispered, her eyes lighting up, chin lifting from where it had been resting against her chest. She still had her arms folded around herself, clutching the sodden fabric of her jacket against her skin. There was someone she could trust. If she could just get to her without anyone seeing.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Michelle. She's called Michelle." Carla allowed a tiny smile to form across her lips. "She doesn't think I'm bad, you know? She doesn't think I'm rotten. She can tell them."

"Okay, have you got a phone? Or her number? We'll call her for you."

Carla didn't want to use her phone. They'd find her for sure then. She'd left it at the bar before and Peter had taken it, Peter could be tracking it and him and Ken were part of it. While she was rapidly thinking this through, trying to remember Michelle's number by heart, she almost missed the way the two girls shuffled closer together, muttering to one another.

"Well what are we supposed to do? She needs help. I think we should call the police." Victoria whispered, producing her own phone from her pocket. "Keep her—"

"What are you whispering about?" Carla demanded, her eyes widening. "You are in on it, I knew it!" She shouted, moving backwards again, until she was out the other end of the bridge. The rain had slowed now, to a cold drizzle that misted over her face. "Stay away from me!"

She ran again, despite the stitch in her side, despite the fact it felt like she was about to collapse. She knew she couldn't stop until she'd found somewhere safe.

 **IXIXIXI**

"Johnny's phoned around all the family, even Suzie in L.A. No one's heard from her. Any luck?"

Michelle put her phone down and her shoulders dropped in exhaustion. She leant back against the headrest, dumping her mobile down onto the dashboard. Peter's cab was pulled over by one of the seedier looking bars in town. He'd offered to go in and show the landlord a photo of Carla to save Michelle from having to. It had been full of early morning drinkers, some already sloshed even though it was barely breakfast time. It made Peter feel uneasy, he could have so easily succumbed to that life. That could have been him, slumped over a barstool, shakily counting out change, right down to the penny, scraping every last bit of what he had to get his fix. They'd been out all night, driving in the rain, looking for Carla.

He shook his head sadly, brushing his hand over his face. They were both tired, neither of them had slept.

"Why don't I drive for a bit?"

"You're not insured to drive the cab."

Michelle raised her eyebrow. Of course now he'd decided he was one for following rules.

"Well we won't get very far if we're in an accident because you're nodding off at the wheel."

"You're just as tired as me!"

"We should have taken separate cars, we've not even covered the other side of Manchester yet." Michelle stressed, her thumb anxiously picking at the lock on the side of the door, pushing it down before pulling it back up again. The noise grated on him.

"Oh yeah because we could really keep lookout and keep an eye on the road. That wouldn't have lead to any accidents at all." Peter bit out sarcastically, shoving the keys back into the ignition, but refraining from starting the engine. "Will you _stop_ doing that?" He snapped, gesturing to where her hand was still playing with the lock.

"Well we wouldn't be doing this at all if you'd have been able to keep an eye on her!" Michelle retorted, allowing her anger to build. "Mind you I should've known, you had a wandering eye last time she was concerned, too, didn't you? She could be anywhere!"

"Could she? I had no idea! Why don't you use your sudden mystical insight to try and figure out exactly where that is, Michelle?" Sarcasm dripped from his words, his arms folding huffily across his chest. "You're always up in her business, knowing exactly what she's up to. She can't even sneeze without you knowing about it. I'm surprised you're this stumped!"

A crushing silence filled the cab, tension settling heavy between them. Michelle grabbed her phone and started to plough through her contacts, though she knew already that there was no one else left to call. It was more to distract herself from the lingering animosity between them. Loading up her _FriendConnect_ page, she scrolled down her feed. All of her family members had left a status, it was being shared by residents all over the Street, some even adding their own comments to it. Splattered across her newsfeed there were various photos of Carla. Happy, smiling, her eyes glinting mischievously up at the camera. The lens hadn't had to go to any effort to capture how stunning she was, and neither had she. She brushed her thumb over the one Kate had shared. Despite insisting that Carla was doing it all for attention, her younger sister had still taken to social media to appeal for information. It must have been one that Kate had taken herself. Carla was sat in one of the booths, it looked like Aidan might have been beside her but the photo had been cropped. It didn't seem like she knew the photo was being taken at all, she had her hand wrapped loosely around a glass or orange and she was mid laugh, her eyes creased with happiness, genuine and blissful. Or had it been? Because that's what she thought about Aidan too and she'd missed all the signs. Could it be possible they'd all made the same mistake again?

"All that stuff she's been through; growing up where did did and then Tony, Frank and now all of this. No wonder she's broken down. No wonder she needed to drink and gamble, she's probably been hurting for years." Michelle bit her lip, dropping her chin into her hand. She'd tortured herself for hours going over Carla's past, raking through every trauma the other woman had been brought and wondering how the hell she'd managed to continue on for so long.

"But that's Carla, isn't it? She doesn't like accepting help." Peter shrugged, his hands resting on the steering wheel. They were both succumbing to fatigue after driving around Manchester relentlessly, stopping in bars and casino's with Carla's photo even though they knew she wouldn't have been in any fit state of mind to go into one. It was their last resort; they'd already checked in all of the known hostels. It was starting to feel like a hopeless case, she could quite literally be anywhere. They could have passed by her for all they knew, peering into alleyways and checking behind shops as they'd trawled through town. Kate and Ryan were currently at the tram station, asking the drivers if they'd seen Carla board one at all. So far they'd heard no news from them.

"She did, once. I got her to see this therapist. I don't think she went for very long."

"You got her to go to therapy?" Peter turned to face her, his brow raised in shock, he even looked mildly impressed. "How do you do that? Get her to sleep and accept help like that?"

"Because I don't pander to her to keep her sweet. I know you think I'm controlling but I only step in when she gets like this because I want what's best for her." She pulled her phone from her pocket, the same cold feeling washing over her, like someone had doused her in icy water, when there were no messages, no missed calls.

"I don't think you're controlling— a bit full on maybe." Peter dated to input, but his tone was gentle, he wasn't trying to be cruel. "But you do actually seem to know what's best for her, even when she doesn't." He admitted, causing her to meet his gaze in shock. This was as close to an agreement as they'd got in a long time. Michelle didn't even feel that angry, she was just sad. "How do you always know what to do?"

"I've known her a long time." Michelle answered truthfully. Being one of the few who'd managed to break through Carla's layers of protective walls and guarded emotions had been one of the most difficult and trying tasks she'd faced and she'd come close before to giving up, but something had made her persist. And she was so glad she had, because she was now one of the honoured few, who knew just how deeply the other woman's emotions ran, how when she loved you, she loved with everything she had, how her eyes could hide nothing, they gave everything away, Michelle could always see right through to her soul. But the last time they'd been blank and absent and something had been missing. Michelle had felt it within herself, that tiny piece of home she'd always seen inside her had been gone, part of her was lost too. "I didn't know this time, though, did I?" She blinked rapidly, not wanting to become worked up in front of Peter.

"Hey, you did as much as you could. You're still doing it, now." Peter offered her gentle reassurance. She responded with a tiny, grateful smile. It was as close to becoming friends as they'd get, they needed to work together if they were going to bring Carla home. Because Carla would come home.

"Right, I reckon we should head back to the Rovers and see what everyone else has been doing."

 **IXIXIXI**

Michelle entered the Bistro, wearily. Everyone had retired to rest up in order to efficiently continue their search, but she knew she wouldn't be able to settle. After arriving back at the Rovers she'd felt wide awake. Having not bothered checking the rota for the Bistro, she couldn't even find it in herself to be angry at the fact she wasn't the one supposed to be opening up. The rest of the staff should be here soon anyway. She busied herself with rearranging the bottles behind the bar, restocking the napkin dispensers, putting up the sign which informed the customers how they were working to become more environmentally friendly; Robert had put it up to combat how many complaints they'd received since switching to biodegradable straws, which seemed to break down in their drinks. Apparently it was a ploy to get them to drink faster and therefore buy more. It was such a wild theory, she wondered what went on in some people's minds, but then her chest seized and she received a very stark reminder that something was happening to Carla, _her_ distorted reality meant she was in danger and she was out there. All alone.

The door opened and she was pulled from her thoughts, her eyes heavy with unshed tears.

"I didn't think you were in today?" Robert frowned, dumping his gym bag carelessly behind the bar. Michelle opened her mouth to make sarcastic comment about how delighted the health inspector would be if he walked in to a member of their staff going flying over it, but she really didn't have the energy.

"It's a good job I was, no one else came to open up." She mumbled, bringing her hand up to her mouth and pulling at the skin around her nail. It was a growing habit that was making them sore and she winced slightly, dropping her arm and instead reaching for her phone.

"What's up with you?" The chef asked, taking in her withered appearance. She'd not applied any make-up, only the remnants of mascara that coated her lashes from the night before remained on them and she looked withdrawn. There were shadows beneath her eyes and her hair hadn't been styled.

"I've been out looking for Carla all night, she's missing."

"Missing?"

Michelle looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. "Have you seen her?"

"Me? No, not for a few days." He shrugged, sidling around the bar and popping the till open. There was a shrill rattle which set her teeth on edge; he'd upturned a bag of change and was now depositing it into the corresponding slot. Was he being deliberately annoying?

"You swear? Because if you have, I need to know. She's ill."

"Ill, like, seriously ill?" Robert's hand went slack, a few pound coins slipping from his palm and bouncing off the section dividers, scattering across the floor. Neither of them paid any mind to it.

Michelle nodded, closing her eyes. She didn't know if she could talk about it without going to pieces. "Yeah, she's having some kind of breakdown. She thinks Rana's still alive. She's paranoid that everyone is out to get her, having all these deluded thoughts." She swallowed, her grip on her phone tightening. She wished it would ring. That's what news she hoped for every time it had; Carla's okay, we've got her. It didn't matter what state she'd be in when they did find her, or how long the road to recovery would be, because as long as she was alive, as long as they got her to safety Michelle knew she'd do whatever it took to bring her back, to make her healthy again.

"Johnny's terrified she's going to try and do what Aidan did." Michelle was terrified too.

"What?" Robert shook his head, looking perplexed. "Surely she wouldn't?"

Michelle shrugged, reluctant to divulge any information on Carla's private life. It wasn't like she hadn't attempted to before. The thought made her blood run cold, that was part of the reason her heart leapt to her throat each time they'd received a message, drove to a new hostel; she couldn't brace herself for the possibility that they'd received bad news. That _wasn't_ going to happen because she _couldn't_ lose Carla. She attempted to push the thought from her mind, it wasn't a route she wanted to go down, she was barely managing to fight down the bile that rose every time her brain forced her to even contemplate the idea.

"You know, I actually wondered if she was okay." Robert began, his brow furrowing in consideration, the tiniest glint of hope flickering in his eyes as he latched onto the idea that maybe he _had_ got it all wrong. "When she was getting involved with us, trying to come between us. Maybe that's where it started—"

Michelle's angered scoff cut his fantasy short and she rounded on him, her eyes darkened with fury. "It started when you named and shamed her Rana's memorial!" She shouted, and the hope that had been aflame in his eyes was doused in a second. "She's out there completely on her own, terrified and unwell and _you're_ trying to make this about us?" She sneered, regarding him disgustedly. "If anything, it's your fault!" The anger that she'd worked hard to keep at bay flared up in full force and in a way it was all she had to hold onto, the only thing that kept her wired and alert. "If you'd just kept your gob shut, if you'd had let me leave when I asked, if Peter could have just kept his eye on her for a little bit longer—"

"You know Michelle you're throwing accusations at me, at Peter, blaming us and you're the one whose supposed to be her 'best friend'" he spat the words at her, his fingers making air quotes around the phrase. You should have noticed something was amiss." He looked sickeningly pleased at the stricken look across her face. "What? Not as close as you think you are, ey? Or realising you're just as much at fault?"

His words barrelled into her, winding her, the reply caught in her throat. The Bistro felt stifling, like it was suffocating her. She could barely draw breath as she turned in heel and fled. It was cold outside, the icy breeze pierced through the thin fabric of her black jumper but she barely noticed. Her back hit the wall and she slid down it, unable to stop the cry that tore from her throat, the sound as harsh as the air around her. It was true, it was all true and she couldn't bear it. Her head dropped into her hands, fingertips tangling in her hair. Without a care of who might see, despite the fact she was in full view of anyone who passed by, Michelle dropped to the cobbles and sobbed, each one anguished and wracking her body. She held onto herself, letting tears pour down her cheeks. She cried because she felt the cold now and Carla was alone in it, because she was scared and unsafe and she could be hurt. It twisted her insides, the thought of her lost and unaware of what was happening to her, she must be terrified and she wasn't there to help, wasn't there to calm her down, even though she'd promised her she would be. She cried because what if it was too late after all? What if Carla was hurt or worse? She might never see her again and she'd have been alone and broken when it happened, she couldn't stand it. Her body heaved with the force of them, she had to wrap her hands around herself, fisting them into the material of her jumper. It wasn't her arms she wanted to feel around her, it wasn't her own body she wanted to hold.

"Mum!" Ali's voice came from somewhere to the left of her but she didn't even look up. "Mum, what's happened? Is it Carla?" He dropped down beside her, sliding his arm around her shoulders. "Have you heard something?"

Michelle shook her head, collapsing against him and crying even harder. "We've heard—nothing." She choked, trying to force in gulps of air, but her lungs rattled and she shuddered, her breaths staying broken and gasping. "I want her back, I just want her back." The devastated brunette cried, soaking the chest of her sons shirt. It became a deeper blue where her tears stained it, the last of her mascara transferring onto the expensive material, but he didn't mind.

"Come on, it's alright." He spoke gently, making comforting circles against her back. "We've got the police back involved and social media, we'll find her."

The sound of her mobile message tone rang out, she'd taken to turning it off silent and had whacked the volume to full. Her heart leapt into her mouth as she opened a message from Kate.

"She says she needs to see us in the pub." She managed to wheeze out, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Ali nodded and helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her as they walked.

It was empty inside the Rovers, but the lunchtime rush wasn't due for another hour. Kate, Johnny and Peter were all stood at the bar, hovering over a phone.

"What's going on?" Michelle asked, already fearing the worst. Kate looked like she'd been crying, her eyes were red and both Johnny and Peter looked equally as concerned as she did.

"I got Rana's phone back," Kate whispered, her lower lip trembling. She looked haunted, there was guilt etched across her features. "There's these voicemails on them, they're from Carla."

"What, from before?" Peter asked, wondering where the younger girl was heading with it. He hoped it wasn't something incriminating. Then again, Kate didn't look angry, in fact she looked as though she deeply regretting something. At his question, she shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. "No, listen."

" _Rana, please, please you've got to answer me. I'm so, so sorry_." It was Carla's voice, broken and raspy through the speakers. They all fell silent, staring at the phone with increasing amounts of dread spreading across their faces.

" _It was an accident, I swear. I never meant for it to happen. Rana just speak to me, I'm begging you. I'm so sorry."_

The message ended and no one spoke. With a shaking hand, Kate reached out to pick the phone up, showing them the trail of voicemail notifications. "There's more, look." Her finger hovered over the play button but a sob broke the silence. Michelle clapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head, bolting around the side of the bar and sliding past Johnny before he could reach out to her.

"I can't," was all she whispered, disappearing through into the back.

"I'd leave her for five, let her calm down." Ali sighed, flopping down into one of the bar stools. "I just found her on the street, she'd had a complete meltdown."

 **IXIXIXI**

Michelle was in the back room, a cushion settled on her lap. She'd managed to slow her tears, fight off the sickening feeling that had remained after hearing Carla's fragile voice down the line. She was going through photos on her own phone, scrolling through an onslaught of happier memories.

There was a photo she'd taken of the pair of them at the seaside. They'd gone off for the day together just because. Neither of them had been working, the weather was nice and when they'd met for what was supposed to be a breakfast catch-up, Carla had suggested taking off for the day. They were on a Ferris wheel, a huge one, there was nothing but blue sky in the background. Carla's cheek was pressed into hers, her smile a little too painted on. Although she'd insisted she wasn't scared of heights, she'd clung onto Michelle a little too tightly as they'd neared the top. The wind was playing havoc with their hair, it had merged enough so that Michelle couldn't tell whose was whose, all whipped into a frenzy by the sea breeze. When they'd stopped at the top and their caged pod had started to swing lightly in the wind, Carla had groaned and dropped her head into Michelle's shoulder, warning her that the ice cream sundae they'd shared in the cafe at the end of the pier beforehand was at a risk of making a second appearance. She smiled to herself, recalling how she'd put her phone away and settled her arms around Carla properly and with her chin resting atop of her head she'd allowed the older woman to remain buried into her for the remainder of the ride. Carla had jokingly thanked her for keeping her safe, but now the memory caused tears to trickle down her cheeks. She'd made her feel safe then, but she'd let her down, now.

She swiped across to find the next photo in the album. It was a video. She pressed play and instantly a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh left her mouth. They'd been walking to the Factory together and Carla had managed to make herself a friend. A small, ginger tabby cat with a white front and white socked paws was inching towards her, despite her best attempts to fend it off.

" _Go on, shoo! Get away_!" Carla's hassled voice leaked through the speakers. She was trying to nudge it away with her foot, but it pushed its furry head against her boot and rubbed against it, trying to wind itself around her legs. " _Oh god, these are my new shoes. 'Chelle, 'Chelle get it away from me, make it— stop laughing!"_ Michelle's hysterics could be heard behind the camera, watching as the animal continue to mewl and purr, trying relentlessly to get her attention.

" _Aww it could be Underworld's new mascot!"_

" _I'm the boss of a knicker factory not Doctor Flamin' doolittle. Put that phone down and help me shake it off!"_

Peter hovered awkwardly in the doorway, lightly rapping his knuckles against the wood despite the fact it was wide open. Michelle glanced up from where she'd been submerged in her phone, swiping beneath her eyes, the skin beneath them pink and swollen.

"Hey, can I show you something?" He asked, waiting for her to nod before stepping into the living area. Pulling out his own mobile, he dropped into the seat behind her and loaded up Simon's social media page. "This was his idea. I don't know much about hashtags and trending but he said this was a really good way to get the word out. He said it could be used across multiple platforms."

Michelle peered at the screen. Above a photo of the missing brunette was the caption _#FindCarla_ with information about her disappearance and a description of what she'd been wearing. It already had a few hundred shares. "He said several local news companies had shared it to their pages too."

A new flare of hope ignited in her chest. It was a good idea. "That's really clever," a small smile even began to pull at her mouth. "Tell him thank you." She whispered sincerely, moving up to meet his gaze. As much as they'd locked heads, they really did want the same thing.

"I thought that maybe you could call around some of the business contacts she was closest to, see if they'd agree to put it out on their pages too."

Michelle nodded eagerly, finally something useful she could do. "We should print some out, put them up in shops and around town."

"Yeah, Roy suggested that. He's at the library now getting a load of copies. We're going to find her." He sounded so certain, like this was going to work. Michelle had to believe it would, she didn't have any other choice. "I'll let you get some rest, I think we could all do with it." Peter sighed, thinking it might just be slightly easier to do so now their search was apparently going viral. He hesitated for a moment. "I, uh, might drive around for a bit again after my shift tomorrow, if you want to— or I mean if you go out yourself. Just keep me posted." His hand moved to rest on her shoulder for a second and she nodded to him gratefully. It made her feel worse for having gone off to Robert about him. For all his faults, he really was helping them find her.

"Look after each other." Peter smiled to Kate as he passed her, gesturing to Michelle. The younger girl bid him goodbye and slouched down next to Michelle, chewing on her lip. She took a breath to speak, looking like she didn't quite know where to begin.

"I've been so stupid, haven't I?" She whispered, her voice cracking. "I shouldn't have blamed her, it was an accident. I just had all this— all this anger inside me."

Michelle automatically shuffled closer, slinking an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, you're grieving."

"And now I might have to grieve for the loss of my sister too. I've lost Aidan and Rana, and now I might lose Carla." Her head dropped and she let out a cry, leaning further into Michelle when the other woman pulled her into a hug.

"You're not losing her, I'm going to find her." She promised, rubbing a hand over her back. Another reason she had to make good on her word. Kate was right, she'd lost so many people, she was so young. If anything happened she knew Kate would shoulder some of the blame, just the way they all did for Aidan and she didn't want her to have to carry that on top of losing her wife. It wasn't fair.

"I'm glad she had you. You didn't turn your back on her."

Michelle felt her chest grow tight. "I did, Kate. When I walked away from her, I told her I was ashamed of her." As much as she was disgusted in her actions, she wasn't going to lie about what she'd done, she wasn't going to let her family think she'd been a saint. " I did apologise to her, but she wasn't there. It was like looking into the eyes of a complete stranger."

Kate pulled back slightly, but she didn't look angry. She looked thoughtful, going over what Michelle had just revealed to her.

"I think she was. Peter said you managed to get her to sleep. When he found her, she was asking if you were safe, wasn't she? She thought whoever was after her could have got you. I think there was still a part of her left, a small part that you managed to get through to."

Michelle smiled sadly. She _hoped_ she had. If Carla had left thinking there was still one person on her side, that's all it took. Just one small flicker of light to pull you through a tunnel of darkness. But Carla wasn't thinking rationally, so she wouldn't be clinging onto hope when she wasn't even clinging onto reality. Kate hadn't seemed to notice the way Michelle's face fell, just the way her heart had.

"If I could have one more moment with Rana, just one, I'd tell her exactly how much I love her." Kate spoke gently, staring straight ahead. "Because life's too short." She looked at Michelle pointedly, who swallowed and shook her head, realising exactly what the younger girl was alluding to. It wasn't the time, she couldn't talk about that _now_.

"Peter loves her." _Or thinks he does,_ she mused, wondering if she was being too harsh in her judgement. She dropped her eyes to her lap. It definitely wasn't the time for this conversation.

Kate dipped her head, following Michelle's gaze. "He's not the only one."

"Kate I can't do this. All that matters is bringing her home safe and helping her recover. If she chooses—if she wants to be with—" Michelle's words broke and she closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm not going to be putting anymore stress on her or let this mess with her head. Not until she's better, maybe not even then if it's going to put any pressure on her."

Kate nodded in understanding, but didn't quite drop it. She had to know.

"Do you love her?"

"Of course I do, shes my best friend."

"Are you _in_ love with her?"

 _Yes_. "I don't know." Michelle winced, rubbing her hand against her head. There was an ache forming there, she tried to think back to the last time she'd eaten or even had anything to drink. "Kate, I really don't know and I can't even begin to try and work it out. This has to stay between us."

Finally, her cousin relented, looking apologetic that she'd pushed it. "Sorry, I just didn't want you losing out on something that could be special." She whispered, her eyes glazing over. "But, it's none of my business, I'm sorry." Kate apologised again, resting her hands over Michelle's. "You know I won't say anything."

 **IXIXIXI**

"Er, are you sure this is the right place love?" The taxi driver rounded the corner of a the heavily run down council estate. There were more houses boarded up than habitable ones. On the corner, a woman dressed in a stained dressing gown was clutching a can of cheap cider, a cigarette trapped between her lips as she tugged impatiently on the dog lead. Her dog was a scrappy, scrawny thing, barking at Carla viciously when she stepped out of the cab. She nodded, keeping her hood up as she pressed the last of her money into the drivers hand. It had been a last resort. Carla knew she couldn't use her bank cards. Cash machines were traceable and had camera's. Instead she'd counted the last of her money and flagged down a cab, begging the driver to take her as close to the estate as he could for the amount she had. He didn't look happy about leaving her.

She trawled down the pavement, weeds sprouted from between the cracks, chunks of the curb were missing. Stepping into the road to avoid the dog, she stumbled over a pothole. One of many which she had to pick her way over. It hadn't changed. She knew this road like the back of her hand. It was freezing now, she'd have to pick a house sooner or later. There was an argument breaking out in the doorway of one of them, two men were squaring up to one another, swearing incoherently. They were so off their faces that their words were unintelligible, they probably wouldn't even be able to recognise the other's face. _They won't remember or recognise mine either._ It looked like the council had attempted to board it up, but the door had been kicked in and vulgar graffiti was sprayed across the wooden panels that adorned the windows. Nettles bordered the flagged path that lead up to the doorway.

"Whadd'ya want?" One of the men slurred, wobbling on his feet as Carla approached them.

"I just want to go inside." She mumbled. Rana wouldn't know people like this. People like her. This was how she was supposed to be.

"Well want if I don't let you?" He sneered, showing a set of grimy teeth.

"Don't think you're letting her distract you. I want my money. I got the gear, now pay up." The other man suddenly barked, lunging forward and giving the first one a shove.

"Try and get it." The goad caused the pair to embark in a sloppy tussle, neither of them in a fit state to be fighting. But it allowed Carla to slip into the house unnoticed. She listened out. It was silent, aside from the drip of a kitchen tap. It smelled like stale alcohol, smoke and damp. The stairs creaked ominously when she tried her weight against them. She began her ascend, on high alert for any noise. It felt familiar, creeping by rooms and trying her hardest to stay quiet, not to disturb anyone inside them, desperate to continue on unnoticed. Like when she'd tried to sneak her and Rob's uniforms from the airing cupboard where she'd left them in a vain attempt to let them drip dry. But she'd awakened her step-dad, who'd been vicious with a hangover and she'd received a smack across the face for her trouble. She'd always brought out the worst in people.

The first room she came to was locked, the door wouldn't budge. She was too weak to try and force it open. Instead she moved along to the second one, the door here was rotting. But it swung open with an ominous creak and she stepped inside, the smell of mould stinging her nose. The floor could have been carpet, parts of it worn and it's original colour was anyone's guess. She closed the door behind her and edged around the room, keeping her back to the wall. It was small, empty and the thin, faded curtains that hung by the window were speckled with black mould. This whole room was rotting. It was exactly where she belonged. She sank to the floor with a quiet sob, dropping her head in her hands. The jacket she had on was still damp and was causing her to shiver.

Her eyes fell to the upturned bed in the corner. The mattress was grubby and stained, springs and stuffing poking out of it. The wooden bed frame was splintered, half of it collapsed. There was a blanket there, it looked thin and dirty, it was probably supposed to be white but was now grey. It was dry, though. And it would be warm. Willing her protesting muscles to lift her once more, she placed her hand down onto the carpet, wincing at the sharp pain in her palm. One of the beer bottles had been smashed and she'd pressed down onto a shard of glass.

 _Did that hurt? Good. It's what you deserve._

Carla backed up quickly against the wall. They hadn't found her, not here. This was a bad place, the worst place she could be. No one in their right mind would ever think of come.

"Go away." She whispered, clamping her hands over her ears. Her palm throbbed, but the pain didn't feel bad. It felt _real_. Something solid that she could hold onto. She could still hurt and bleed and feel it, it was certain.

 _Do it again._

Carla moved her hands from her ears, surveying the cut on her palm. It wasn't too deep.

 _Go on._

Swallowing, she reached down for that same shard of glass, scrutinising it. It was a bold green, like the freshly mowed laws in summer, the scent that would permeate the air mixed with the heat. But summer never lasted. Not at home. Not here. Bottles were broken, thrown in temper and she was thrown against the wall, fourteen and frightened.

 _Is it any wonder? Look how you turned out. Your mum knew you were rotten the moment you were born. It's what you deserved._

Carla closed her eyes, gripping onto the shard a little tighter. She felt a minute sting in her finger and the voice in her head quietened for a moment. A moment that wasn't long enough.

 _Is that all? That's punishment enough is it? After everything you've done. Pathetic. Kate was right._

She was shaking, her eyes filling, tears splashing down her face. Instead she focused on the dull sting. She could control that. If she pressed down against the wound it spiked angrily, blood coating her finger.

 _You deserved everything you got in life. You know that, don't you? You know how to make us go away, Carla. If we stay, we'll only make you remember. Do you want to remember? How rotten you are. You got everything you deserved. He punished you, didn't he? Frank hurt you, he—_

"Shut up, _shut up!_ " Carla screamed, her throat burning with force of it. Her gravelly voice echoed around the room and she threw up the sleeve of her jacket, placing the glass against her skin.

 _You make people go bad._

The moment her skin split caused her to cry out.

 _Keep going. Can you feel that? All the badness bleeding out of you._

She could feel it. Warm and wet, oozing down her arm. Her blood was dark in the dim room, almost black. Was that it? Was that what was inside her, causing her to be so bad? There was something else, too, something that caused her head to tip back against the wall, her eyes to flutter closed. _Relief_. An intense wave of relief that lightened her chest, stopped the constant squeeze of panic. It was all coming out.

 _Keep going and we won't stay._

She tried again, another jagged strike against the inside of her arm, tearing apart the flesh. The fear inside her ebbed away, her body released a wave of calm over her. She cried out loud at the alleviation of it, the way the mounting panic suddenly dissipated.

 _One more._

Carla listened. They didn't sound as menacing anymore. She was pleasing them, she'd finally found a way to assuage her guilt, to pay for everything she'd done. She was anticipating it this time, her chest thudding with excitement, relishing the tranquil euphoria that descended over her. It warmed her bones, the same warmth that was now flowing down her arm. A sigh escaped her lips, she relished in this tiny respite. She dropped the shard of glass and pushed her sleeve down, crawling across the room to seize the blanket. It wasn't that cold anymore, but she could sleep. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she fell back against the flaking wall, closing her eyes. There was nothing now, just a blissful silence. She could feel the throbbing in her arm. She counted each pulse of pain. _One, two, three_... Her lids were growing heavy. Carla wanted to sleep. _Four, five, six.._. She was alone and for now, she was safe.

 **IXIXIXI**

"It's been days." Michelle was pacing the backroom in the Rover's, relentlessly refreshing her iPad. Four of them, to be precise. "Why isn't this stupid online appeal working?" She snapped, glaring at the screen as though it was somehow the devices fault. No one else in the room tried to placate her. Peter had called in to tell them he had no further news and Michelle had had to bite her tongue to stop herself from throwing a comment about his visit being pointless. She hadn't been sleeping well. Just the previous night she'd tossed and turned, woke up in a cold sweat having dreamt about Carla. She'd been calling out to her for help, but it was just so dark and Michelle hadn't been able to see. The older woman's voice had become weaker and Michelle had tried to run towards it, but it was pitch black and she had no idea where she was or where she was running to. She just knew that her time was nearly up. There were other dreams too, ones where the news reports flashed graphic slogans about a body found or answering her phone to _that_ call, one she'd had to take so many times already. She couldn't take another, not for Carla. It was getting to the point where she was too terrified to answer her phone at all.

"I just don't understand how she could have disappeared without a trace." Peter mused out loud, accepting a drink from Jenny. Michelle didn't understand how they could all mill about drinking endless amounts of tea waiting for news like they were merely waiting on football results. They weren't, of course, and in the back of her mind she knew they were just as worried. Her temper had been close to the surface for days now.

"It's the not knowing that messes with your mind." Peter continued, looking haggard. "All this wondering where she could be and I keep thinking what if I _did_ see her when I was driving around, second guessing myself all the time." He sighed, pulling himself up from his seat. His hand was routing around in his pocket, locating his lighter and plucking the cigarette that was stuck behind his ear. Michelle grimaced. "Waiting for news is almost as bad as—"

"As what?" Michelle snapped, rounding on him. "As bad as having the police knock on the door and say she's dead? Is that what you'd prefer? Save you from all this aggro, ey?" Her voice had climbed several decibels and Peter was looking extremely sorry for opening his mouth.

"No! No that's not that I meant at all." He tried to explain, but she ignored him and scrolled impatiently on the iPad once more. She was loading up the business pages of the people she had contacted two days earlier. They'd acted sorry about Carla's disappearance and said they'd share the appeal on their websites, but the harsh reality of it was that if it didn't benefit their business, they were no longer interested. They probably believed the rumours, that Carla had let the factory collapse and someone had died. Underworld was basically bust, why should they care now? They probably already had other suppliers.

"Carla did _so_ much for these utter snobs and the moment she needs their help, they're not interested." Michelle growled, leaving Peter and Jenny to exchange concerned glances. "If there's nothing in it for them, it doesn't matter that Carla could be dead in a ditch somewhere!" She threw the iPad in frustration, it only hit the sofa cushions and bounced into the floor but it was Michelle's state of mind that was concerning. She ignored the shout of her name and stormed out of the room, bypassing a bewildered Kate who had just been coming in to ask about any news and heading straight for the bar. Her fingertips skimmed the bottles hanging on the wall until they stopped by the whisky. She pressed a glass against the leaver twice, it might as well be a double.

"Michelle," Kate's voice was gentle against the low murmur of chatter in the pub. Johnny hasn't even attempted to stop her filling the glass with amber liquid.

"What?" Michelle's teeth were clenched. She hadn't yet raised it to her lips, she was clutching the drink so tightly her knuckles had whitened.

"Come here, it's okay,"

It most definitely wasn't okay, it was the complete opposite of okay.

"I don't want a hug." She protested, though her voice had cracked and she dropped the glass down, her shoulder sagging. "I want—" a sob finished the rest of the sentence when she couldn't.

"I know." Her cousin nodded, knowing exactly what she'd been about to say. "I know you do, I want her back too."

"I've got to go to work." Michelle brushed underneath her eyes, taking a breath to compose herself.

"You don't, Robert will understand—"

"Robert doesn't understand a thing." Was all she said, marching over to the latch and pulling it up.

Kate and Johnny watched her leave, there wasn't a lot they could have done to stop her. The landlord's eyes were heavy with concern, one daughter grieving, the other missing, the woman he considered a niece looking like she was about to suffer a nervous breakdown.

"She's not coping, is she?" He directed the question to Kate, his face troubled. They'd missed the signs with Carla and now Michelle had taken to picking at her food and refusing to sleep. His entire family was crumbling.

"She's scared, dad. We all are."

 **IXIXIXI**

Peter inhaled deeply on the filter of his cigarette, feeling the familiar calming rush. It didn't last as long as he'd like, but it was better than nothing. He was leant up against the wall of the cab office, taking a break. Not that he'd been working much. He'd spent less time picking up customers and more time driving aimlessly around town, trying to catch a glimpse of Carla. His mind had stated to play tricks on him, as if she'd be wandering happily down the high street swinging shopping bags. Whatever state they found her in, he knew it wouldn't be good.

"Alright, mate?" A car boasting the logo of a neighbouring cab company had pulled up outside, the driver's face being vaguely familiar. Someone he'd met at one of his AA meetings.

"Oh, hiya pal, you alright?" He tried to force a smile.

"Listen, are you all still looking for Carla?"

That caught his attention straight away. His old acquaintance was holding up one of the posters Roy had printed off, it was flapping slightly in the breeze.

"Yeah," he quickly stamped out his cigarette and moved closer, bending towards the window.

"Only I dropped someone off that looked like her. I mean she was in a bit of a state, I didn't want to leave her—"

"Where?" Peter cut across him impatiently, feeling his heart rate start to speed up.

"I'll dig out the exact address." He nodded, punching a postcode into the sat nav that was attached in the lower right of his windscreen. "Some estate in Altrincham." Pulling a scrap of paper from the glove compartment, he fished about for a pen and scribbled down the name of the street. "Be careful though, it's rough around there. Some scally jumped his fare and threatened to put my window through." He warned, holding the address out for Peter to take.

"Thanks, mate." He nodded gratefully, already fumbling in his pocket for his on car keys.

"Not a problem, I hope it is her. Good luck!"

Peter almost dropped his keys in his haste. His cab was parked by the Rovers and he took off in a sprint, wondering if it was fair to get any of her family's hopes up. Although he wasn't sure he was ready to face Michelle's wrath if she found out he'd kept this from her. It was Friday afternoon, the rain had finally let up and those lucky enough to have early finishes were already filling booths in the Rovers, music from the duke box could be heard even over the raucous laughter coming from the punters, all of them getting ready to enjoy the weekend. It was busy. The smell of ale was particularly strong.

Johnny was at the bar looking miserable, though kept forcing a false smile across his lips when he gave drinks and change to customers, it never reached his eyes though, which were tired and heartbroken. He'd already lost one child. There were posters up either side of the bar, each on depositing that same, smiling photo of Carla, appealing for any information as to her whereabouts.

"Johnny, where's Michelle?" Peter asked, automatically walking around to his side of the bar. He'd been dipping in and out so often that he no longer needed to be invited through.

"I think she went upstairs to try and get some sleep. Are you alright?" He frowned, regarding his jittery behaviour. Peter shook his head, holding up to slip of paper.

"One of my old mates reckons he dropped Carla off at an address a few days ago, we've got to go."

Instantly, Johnny flew into the same urgent panic that Peter was in, looking for a second as though he didn't know quite what to do first.

"Right, right— Jenny, I need Jenny for the bar. She's across at the salon." He started to go towards the exit but stopped, glancing back. "I need to tell Michelle— and the bar—"

"You go and get Jenny, I'll shout Michelle. Don't worry about the bar I'll stand here."

Nodding gratefully, Johnny bolted from the Rovers with the speed of a man half his age. Glancing around to make sure no one was heading towards the bar, Peter sidled into the hallway and stuck his head between the banister.

"Michelle!" There was no answer. He grumbled under his breath and tried again, raising his voice. " _Michelle_!" Patience wasn't something he was willing to exercise. He opened his mouth to shout a third time but heard a door above him crack open, a tired groan sounding from the landing. The brunette woman was stood at the top of the stairs, dressing gown tied loosely around her waist. Her hair was ruffled from the restless sleep she'd slipped into before being brutally shouted from it.

"What?" Her voice was raspy but she still managed to inject a good about of venom into the question when she realised exactly who had interrupted what little rest she'd been attempting to get.

"I've got a lead on Carla, we might know where she is."

At once the bleariness left her eyes, sleep replaced by shock. She jumped down two of the steps before suddenly remembering her attire. "Oh god" she hissed, glancing down at herself before retreating back up then once more. "Give me a minute."

Peter made his way back into the bar, leaning up against it. If it wasn't Carla, or if they were too late, it didn't bear thinking about. Part of him was glad he wasn't going alone. His eyes fell to the spirits that lined the bar and he swallowed. There were people laughing over drinks, just one or two, they weren't drunk, just having something to take the edge off of a hard week. This one had been hard, too hard. His dark eyes fixated on the still, amber liquid inside the whiskey bottle that was hung behind the bar, dropped lower to the glasses situated beneath them—

"Peter, where's Johnny?"

The journey down the dangerous path in which his mind had been wandering was cut short and he turned to face Michelle.

"He's gone to get Jenny. What's all that?" He indicted to the large bag she was carrying on her shoulder.

"Carla's coat and shoes. And her medication. Just in case. I've had it ready for days." Michelle shrugged, trying not to sound hopeful.

The pub door opened again and Jenny rushed through, her hands in her hair as she hurriedly tried to dislodge the remaining rollers curled into it. "—the state of me," she sighed, wincing slightly when one snagged in her light tresses. "Not that matters of course, go on, off you go. Bring her back." She plastered on a falsely hopeful smile, which didn't fool any of them into thinking she really thought Carla would be back with them that evening.

"Where are we actually going?" Michelle asked, the three of them hurriedly making their way to Peter's cab. He passed the piece of paper over Michelle who took one glance at the hastily scribbled address and froze.

"This is where we used to live."

"What?"

She handed it across to Johnny. "It's where we grew up!"

"Right get in, quick."

Three doors slammed at the same time, the tyres screeching against the cobbles very much to the dismay of Steve, who had been on his way to the pub and yelled after them at the mistreatment of one of his cab's.

"Oi, use your own car if you want to drive like a flippin' maniac!"

 **IXIXIXI**

"There's dozens of houses on this estate." Peter growled impatiently, slamming on the breaks when they'd arrived at the very first house. It was boarded up. Most of them were.

"Well, we'll knock on every single one." Michelle shrugged, stepping out of the car and adjusting the bag over her shoulder. "Or the ones that are half habitable, anyway." She winced, glancing around the row of rundown houses.

"What happens if we do find her?" Johnny stepped into the middle of the pair as they trudged along the pavement, having to be mindful of the flags that were jutted out or missing, making for an uneven path. It was usually better to get between the pair, Michelle and Peter with tense emotions and fiery tempers could bring devastation to a room within minutes.

"We take her to hospital, Toyah said she needs a mental health assessment."

"And she might be hurt, she might not have been taking her medication." Michelle's stomach churned at the thought, but they had to be prepared for the likelihood that Carla wasn't exactly going to be sat drinking tea and catching up with old neighbours. Not that their neighbours had been anyone you'd want to sit and have tea with. They definitely weren't on Coronation Street anymore. Loud music was coming from one of the houses, a group of teenagers sat on mismatched plastic chairs in the front garden, swigging from cans of beer and tormenting a stocky, drooling bulldog which was growling at their ankles. One of them emptied half of his can into the dog's water bowl.

"I don't think she'll come easy, do you?" Johnny stressed, looking as though he wanted to shout something at the group of youths.

"She hasn't got a choice. Ali said to call the hospital when we'd found her. He's already got the crisis team there informed. He said they'd know what to do."

Johnny nodded, but he was only half listening. He'd stopped walking and was facing the group in the garden again.

"Hey, lads!"

"Oh Johnny don't, we're here for Carla!"

He thrust his hand into his pocket, waving a photo at them as he came to a halt by the wooden fence. It had half of the planks missing.

"Have you seen this woman?"

"What's it worth?" One of them grinned cockily, standing up and swaggering towards him, leaning forward to peer at the photo. "She's fit."

"It's worth you lot not getting reported for animal cruelty. Dogs shouldn't be given alcohol." Johnny snapped, his patience wearing thin after his slurred, crass opinion on Carla.

"Did you hear that, Smithy? Put the can down, it's bad for you!" He shot back at the group and all aside from one, presumably Smithy, jeered at the comment.

"Have you seen her or not?" Michelle fixed them with a fierce stare, her tone dropping dangerously.

"You wanna try number seven, that's where all the squatters go."

Two houses up. Michelle's heart jumped to her throat. It looked like the sort of place that police were called to frequently, where if someone missing was found, it involved grave knocks at the door by morbid officers who'd remove their hats—

She shook the thought from her head and told herself not to be so ridiculous. Carla was alive. The three of them took off further down the street, stopping in the gateway of number seven.

"My God," Johnny murmured, taking in the scene before him in disgust.

The garden was overgrown with weeds and nettles, beer cans and empty take away cartons wedged between thistles and spikes of grass. There were two rusting deck chairs outside, next to a doorway that had long since been kicked in. Two men were sat on them, their layers of clothing discoloured with dirt and tattered. One of them was mumbling incoherently to the other, both of them had a glazed look in their eyes, pupils blown. Automatically Johnny stepped in front of Michelle, who rolled her eyes and tried to push herself forward to stand beside him, only to be blocked by Peter. As if she wasn't capable of handling herself.

"Evening, fellas," Johnny spoke out cautiously, holding up his hand.

"We've not done owt." One of them instantly piped up, nudging his mate for back-up.

"No, we're not here for that. We're looking for someone. Can we just get by and see if she's inside?"

"It's not exactly their house." Peter muttered to him, marching up towards the doorway. The two inebriated men by the door stood up, effectively sealing off the entrance.

"We don't want folk like you skulking around here and getting the council to board it up again. Shove off." The taller one, with a bristly face and a fading bruise beneath his lower eye gave Peter's shoulder a rough shove. He was so half cut that it barely made the other man stumble. He peered over Peter's shoulder and nudged his friend when he caught sight of Michelle, offering her a wink. "You can come in if you like, darling."

Michelle let out a scoff of disgust, opening her mouth to retort back but she was cut off by Peter, who had taken an angered step closer.

"You can either move and let us in or I can move you!" He threatened, his chest puffed out aggressively until Johnny stepped in, hastily pulling the photo from his pocket.

"Hey, look, we don't want any trouble. I'm just looking for my daughter." He held the photo up in front of their faces. They had to squint to view it properly, both of them swaying slightly where they stood. "Have you seen her?"

They exchanged looks of disbelief, one of them giving a short bark of laugher and displaying a mouthful of decaying teeth.

"She didn't look like that though." He sneered, glancing at the smiling women in the photo. "She scrubs up well. Hey, look." Using his elbow to dig his friend to the side again, he nodded at the photo. "Whadd'ya think, eh? That's our mad Mary, can you believe?"

"You what?" Michelle snapped, trying to shove Peter out of the way.

"Mad Mary. That's what we call her. I gave some water the other day, but she wouldn't give me anything back. She went all crazy, we think she's a bit men—"

He never got the chance to finish his sentence because Peter lunged at him, grabbing hold of his collar and slamming the drunken man up against the door. "If you've laid a finger on her—"

"Oi, get off!"

There was a scuffle, his friend had tried to jump to his defence and Johnny had stepped in to lend a hand, trying to placate the situation. "Now look why don't we all just calm down?"

"I'll calm down when this scumbag gets his hands off me!"

Michelle slipped by them, their shouts mingling as they tussled. She wasn't worried. The two men seemed too drunk to be able to inflict any damage and the distraction had allowed her to move into the house unnoticed. She was careful not to touch anything as she climbed the stairs. The walls were black with mould, the wooden banister rotting. It felt like she could catch something nasty just by breathing in the musky air. Once on the landing, she tried the closest door but it was stiff. She had to really push her shoulder against it. Maybe Carla had put something in front of it to stop unwanted visitors. She used to do it when she was younger, back when her mum's 'friends' would walk in and out at all hours, getting drunk and angry and looking for easy targets. Carla used to push her drawers up against the door to bide herself time to escape through the window. She'd once slipped off the drainpipe she used to lower herself down on and had turned up at Michelle's door with a nasty gash on her knee. She was sure Carla still had the scar. A fourteen year old Michelle had cleaned her friend up, stuck a plaster against the wound and given her a hug. If only a plaster would suffice this time.

The door finally gave way and she reached at the smell that hit her, stumbling back. It was empty, but take away cartons had been left to fester, the food half eaten and rancid. She slammed the door shut quickly and grasped the handle of the one next to it, still spluttering as she tried to combat the smell of decay which settled at the back of her throat. She held her breath, not just due to fear of another stench but because she suddenly realised that _anyone_ could be behind these doors. If that was the state of the two men outside, god knows what was awaiting inside.

The carpet had half been ripped up, the smell of damp more prominent in this one. Her eyes fell to the broken bed frame, missing a mattress and the tiniest crack of light that glinted through the boarded window. Dust glittered in the hazy beam. She inched the door further and stepped into the very edge of the room, swallowing nervously as she peered around the edge of it. Her heart which had been rapidly gaining more beats per minute suddenly froze in her chest. Someone was in the room. They were bunched up on a grotty mattress, back against the wall, knees raised to their chest. A tattered blanket was secured around their shoulders and a dark hood masked their face. It was the hair that gave her the spike of hope. Clumped, chestnut tresses peeking out from the sides of the hood.

"Carla," Michelle's voice shook and she tried to inch further into the room, but her legs felt like lead. The hunched figure was still, eerily still and then slowly, a head tilted upwards, rolling back against the wall and the hood covering her slipped off.

"Not again." Carla whispered, sounding exhausted. Her eyes were closed, her face sickeningly pale, aside from the bruising mix of pink and purple below her eyes; lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of everything she needed had sunk her face, her skin tight against her sharp cheekbones and angular jaw. A tear slipped down her cheek and she felt around in the floor beside her, reaching for the same shard of glass. There were other pieces littered around her, but this one was hers. This was the one she had to use.

"Carla, it's me, it's me!" Michelle found the use of her legs and stumbled over to her, dropping down into the mattress. She reached out to hold her face just as the older woman's eyes flickered open; Carla was squinting with the effort it took to keep her heavy lids from falling shut. "Baby, it's okay, it's okay."

Michelle couldn't help it, she burst into tears and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Carla and pulling her tight against her chest. "I've got her!" She sobbed, calling out, her voice echoing around the barely furnished room and carrying down the stairs. "I've got you, I've got you," she continued to repeat, rocking the other brunette in her arms, tears spilling down her cheeks. The relief was paralysing, the feel of her tiny, solid frame in her arms. She was here. She was alive.

"Are you hurt?" Michelle pulled back, swiping impatiently at the tears on her face and trying to think rationally. Carla looked dazed, she was staring straight through her unblinkingly. "Carla, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

The other woman nodded slowly, trying to focus on her face. A hint of a smile pulled at her dry lips, the skin splitting from lack of moisture. "'Chelle," She murmured, bringing a shaking hand up to rest against the other woman's cheek. "You're my friend."

"Yeah, I am," Michelle reached out and held her thinning face carefully in the palms of her hands. She felt so fragile beneath her fingertips and Michelle was delicate with her hold, as though the slightest hint of pressure could shatter her. "What're you doing here, ey?"

Carla's dull eyes began to sparkle as tears filled them, a tiny whimper escaping her mouth. "I needed to be somewhere safe, where they wouldn't find me."

" _Safe_?" Michelle swallowed, glancing around the room, a sob bubbling in the back of her throat which she refused to release. If Carla had been so terrified that she'd deemed this a safer place than being with any of them, it was even worse than what Toyah had described. Two sets of footsteps began to pound up the stairs, both Peter and Johnny shouting out at the same time.

"Where are you both?"

"Is she okay?"

Carla's eyes widened with panic and she suddenly flew out of Michelle's arms, backing up against the wall.

"No, they've found me. Did you bring them? I thought we were friends?" She began to gabble, her chest starting to heave with each gasp of air that she released, her eyes wide with terror.

"It's okay, it's just Peter and Johnny. Your dad." Michelle tried to reassure her, holding out her had but Carla shook her head.

 _They've got you now, Carla._

"No," she shook her head, covering her ears. "Shut up, they haven't. I'll make you go away again."

Michelle leapt up and moved to the doorway, pulling it open and almost colliding with the two men who had been about to enter the room. "No, don't come in. You have to go—"

"Like hell!" Peter snapped at her, attempting to push by but she placed her hand firmly on his shoulders, keeping him back.

"I'm serious! She thinks you're both here to hurt her or something. I don't know. You've got to let me try and calm her down." Michelle looked to Johnny imploringly, willing him to understand. He looked hurt and terrified and after battling with himself, gave a reluctant nod.

"Is she hurt?"

"Not physically, I don't think."

"I'll call Ali, let him know." Was all he said, his shoulders stooped as he backed away from the door.

"Peter, go with Johnny. Please? Make sure no one else comes in." Michelle pleaded, slowly removing her hands from his shoulders but keeping them in front of her.

"I _need_ to see that she's okay."

Reluctantly, Michelle retreated a few paces back, keeping her eye on the other woman as Peter's head peered around the door. His mouth fell open, his gaze instantly becoming watery at the state Carla was in, her body pressed against the wall.

"No, no. Stay back." Her teeth were chattering, her hand held out in front of her.

"It's okay, I'm not coming any closer. I just wanted to know you were safe." He looked devastated and the last thing he wanted to do was leave the room, but attempting to calm her down was going to be a hard enough task without him refusing to listen. "Maybe we should call an ambulance—" Peter began, but Michelle shook her head.

"Just give me five minutes and I'll bring her down. If I can't, we'll call one."

Carla was still shaking, her lower lip trembling when Michelle closed the door and moved back over to her. She was terrified herself, fear winding it's way around her chest and squeezing hard, making it difficult to draw breath.

"You're cold, this is damp." Michelle nodded to the jacket she was wearing and shrugged her bag from her shoulder and placed it down in front of Carla. "I've got your coat in here."

"Why did you bring them?"

"We've been worried about you, darling. No one's here to hurt you, we just want you safe."

Carla watched her through narrowed eyes, trying to work out if Michelle was telling the truth. The younger brunette didn't say anything else, just reached out and tilted her chin, her eyes dropping to the half empty water bottle in her lap before drifting back up to meet her gaze. "Did anyone hurt you? Did those men hurt you?"

She tensed and Michelle felt her stomach flip with dread. But then Carla shook her head, wrapping her own arms around her shaking frame. "They took my purse. They wanted money."

"Okay, look at me," She instructed gently, the tiniest beginnings of relief seeping into her system knowing that no one had physically hurt Carla. "I want to take you somewhere safe, okay? Somewhere safe and warm." Michelle unzipped the bag she'd brought with her and pulled out the coat she'd packed for Carla. It was one of her winter ones; a thick and woollen with large buttons down the middle and she had an idea that it would now be far too big for her. But the thin jacket she was clad in was damp with rainwater and was causing her to shiver violently.

"Can you take that off?"

Carla's hands fumbled with the zip, her hands clumsy with cold. She couldn't grasp hold of the it and after three attempts, gave up and slumped back against the wall with a groan, bringing her knees back up to her chest.

"Hey, it's okay, I can help you." Michelle offered, moving towards her. The mattress groaned and under her knees, she could feel the springs digging into her. She didn't want to try and work out exactly what the stains were that she was knelt on. She reached out for Carla's hands, pulling them between her own and rubbing her skin, trying to warm them slightly. Cupping them in her own, she brought them to her mouth and blew warm air against her skin, watching Carla's eyes for a hint of recognition. They used to do this when they were younger, when they'd walk the streets because Carla hadn't wanted to go home and the summer days had dropped into colder nights. Neither had ever been dressed sensibly enough to accommodate the fact that it got inevitably colder as the sun set, so they'd take it in turns to warm each other's hands. Michelle had insisted on doing it one more time when they walked back together and reached Carla's home; there wasn't ever an ounce of warm for Carla to cling to inside those four walls.

There was a flicker of something in the older woman's eyes, something behind the blankness that had settled there trying to come through. She thought she saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Michelle dipped her head and pressed a gentle kiss against the back of one of them, brushing her thumb across Carla's warmed fingertips before letting her go. The older brunette tugged at the zip on her jacket, Michelle helping her pull it from one shoulder. Goosebumps freckled her arm as it was freed, the thin t-shirt underneath just as useless against the cold as the damp jacket itself. Michelle began to ease it away from her other arm but Carla flinched and tugged it back, a light hum escaping her mouth at the sudden sting she felt. It wasn't unwelcome to her, just unexpected.

"Are you okay?" Michelle asked, her eyes creasing in concern. She flipped the other woman's hand over and inspected the sleeve. It was a dark jacket, but an even darker patch was spread over the inside of it, the material there crusted. Blood. "Are you hurt?" She panicked, one of her hands weaving into Carla's while the other began to move her sleeve down. It was a slow, sickening reveal. Angry scarlet gashes started to appear against the inside of her arm, the skin around it pink and inflamed. The air was sucked out of Michelle's lungs, winding her, a burning pressure in her stomach as it heaved. She turned away quickly, clamping her hand over her mouth but the sob escaped from between her fingers, her shoulders shaking. Horrified tears seared her face as they fell down her cheeks, her eyes screwing tight. She felt sick. Not at what she'd done, but how tortured she must have felt to have done it. Her heart pulsed painfully in her chest. Carla had been here all this time. She'd been freezing, terrified, alone and hurting. Hurting herself. A tiny, cowardly part of her wished Johnny or Peter could have stayed, she could have broken down there and then, but she forced herself to turn back to Carla.

"Baby, what've you done?" Michelle breathed, still unable to take sufficient breath. The musky air was thick, it seeped into her nose and clogged the back of her throat.

Carla's face suddenly softened, her hand reaching up to rest against Michelle's cheek. Her friend was upset. There were tears in her eyes. "Don't cry, 'Chelle. I was making it better."

The younger woman placed her own hand over Carla's, leaning into her touch. It felt wrong that she was the one so ill yet it was Michelle who found herself needing her comfort.

"What do you mean, making it better?"

"It makes me feel like I'm _here_. It stops them from whispering. It stops me from being bad."

Michelle's brow furrowed, her teeth clamping together to keep herself from crying again. The extent of how ill Carla was renewed her sense of urgency to get her friend to hospital.

"I'm going to be really careful, okay?" She whispered, taking the jacket sleeve between her fingertips and trying to inch it down further. Some of the wounds were still oozing blood, a few deep enough so that pink flesh speckled with white was visible. What terrified her more was that Carla didn't seem to be bothered about her self inflicted injuries. She didn't even flinch when the fluffy inside of the jacket material tore at one of the slices where it had fused with it.

"Sorry! Oh god I'm sorry," Michelle sobbed, reaching out for the bottle of water Carla had abandoned. "It's going to sting, I—" she broke off, another cry bubbling in her throat and stopping her third apology. Pressing her lips together in concentration and to stop further sobs wracking her body, Michelle emptied the water where her sleeve was stuck to her skin. It gathered up the semi-dried blood and ran pink down her arm, staining the mattress further. But it worked. The material was loosening, easing away from her flesh. Flecks of dark cotton were still speckled over her injuries but the jacket was off. It looked even more horrifying in its entirety. The harsh lines that marred her skin ran from her wrist right up to the crook of her elbow, each one in various states of healing. The blood was darkest at the top, dried and bits had flaked off with the jacket. Michelle was so gentle, wrapping the other coat around her shoulders, holding the sleeve out and helping her to carefully slide her injured one into it.

As soon as Carla was buttoned up, she wrapped her arms around her tiny, tortured frame and pulled her close, her hand cradling the back of her head which tucked beneath her chin. "I've got you now, baby, it's going to be okay." She soothed, though her voice cracked. Michelle didn't know if she was reassuring herself more than Carla, because at that moment it felt like things might never be okay again. Her world had come down a thousand times over in her lifetime, but nothing had flipped it quite like this. She'd never seen Carla this way before, never in her life had she not known how to help her. "We need to go and get that cleaned, darling."

"No, I don't want to go to hospital." Carla murmured into her neck, clamping her arms around Michelle waist, unable to register the way her arm burned in protest. It was something she'd missed, the familiarity of her comforting scent, the only thing she could recall as being safe. She inhaled deeply, making the most of having her so close, the feeling numbing her overworked mind almost as much as the feel of jagged glass against her skin. "I don't want them to lock me away."

Michelle pulled back an inch, sliding her hand from the back of Carla's head to her cheek, gently coaxing her face upwards. She dipped down so their foreheads lightly bumped. "You trust me, don't you?" She whispered, grazing her thumb across her cheekbone.

Green orbs shifted up a fraction to lock with hers. Carla waited, waited for that voice to come, to tell her to run, not to trust anyone because they were all in on this, everyone wanted her gone because she was so bad. But it didn't come. She strained her ears, bracing herself for the vicious whisper. It almost angered her when silence rang in her ears, she wanted to scream angrily at it. She never knew whether they hated her or wanted to keep her safe. The kind, hazel eyes in front of her own definitely didn't hate her, but they were sad. Michelle was so sad. Was that her fault? Carla had made her sad. "I trust you." She whispered, nuzzling back into the crevice between her jaw and collarbone.

"Okay, then we're going to get up, go down the stairs and we're going to get into a car. It's going to take us somewhere really safe. No one will hurt you, I promise."

Carla was shaky on her feet, she hadn't moved properly for days. She held onto the other woman, toppling into her when they attempted to descent the stairs and her shaking knees gave out. Michelle caught her, she was so light that she'd not even been knocked slightly off balance by the older brunette's weight. "Steady, we can slow down."

There was no sign of the two men who had been in the doorway when they'd arrived, but Johnny's anxious face was peeking out of the car window, his eyes filling with tears of relief at their appearance. Peter had paled dramatically since his arrival, he looked on the verge of collapse himself and Michelle wondered if it would be better for Johnny to drive.

"Oh, thank god."

Carla stopped, her grip on Michelle's arm tightening.

"It's okay, we'll sit in the back. Remember, you're going somewhere safe with me."

Peter held the door open for them, throwing Carla a tentative smile. He reached out for her hand. "Let me help you, sweetheart."

She was hesitant, but allowed him to guide her into the back seat, passing the seatbelt over for him to clip into place. Michelle strode around the other side and shuffled across into the middle seat, threading her fingers through Carla's as soon as Peter had let her go.

"Are we going—?"

"Somewhere safe." Michelle cut across Peter, eyeing him pointedly and he snapped his mouth shut in understanding. Johnny turned around to face them and held up his phone, nodding at her. Ali knew they were coming. She felt her eyes prick with tears and mouthed to them quietly. "She's hurt."

Their faces fell, it was hard to tell which one of them looked more crushed.

"Was it those two?" Peter jabbed his thumb towards the squatting premises. She shook her head, dropping her chin against top of Carla's head when the older woman curled into her. She was shaking again.

"Let's just go."

 **IXIXIXI**

Peter pulled the cab to a halt outside of Weatherfield General and the abrupt cut of the engine startled Carla, who pulled her head up form Michelle's chest and glanced fearfully out of the window.

"Where are we?" She whispered, tensing when Michelle unclipped her belt and Johnny pulled the door open for them. "You said we were going somewhere safe."

"We are, don't worry sweetheart." Johnny attempted to reassure her, holding out his hand to help her out. She refused to take it and he looked completely gutted, but moved to the side in acceptance.

"This is the hospital. I don't want to go in."

"Hey, it's going to be okay. You need to get your arm checked darling and you've been without your medication for days." Michelle felt the pang of guilt when though it wasn't technically a lie; it just wasn't the full truth.

The automatic doors invited them to step through into the reception area and Carla reached out to grasp on Michelle's hand at the daunting prospect of stepping through.

"Is Rana here?" She whispered, causing the other three to exchange devastated glances at one another. Michelle shook her head, gently leading Carla into the building and towards reception.

"She died," was all she said and Carla's jaw clenched. Michelle had just _lied_.

The older woman stopped short and pulled away. The waiting area was too bright, too loud. The white lights hurt her head, messed with her vision and the low, mournful murmuring of Doctor's as they passed by one another buzzed in her ear like a swarm of agitated wasps. What were they hiding? The squeak of trolleys and cleaning carts reverberated in her brain, jarring her nerves. It reminded her of the time when she was younger, when she'd had to have a filling at the dentist after breaking a tooth fighting and she'd accidentally bitten down onto foil that was still stuck to the finger of a kit-kat Michelle had snapped in half to share with her, afterwards.

 _Even she can't stand you now. That's why she's brought you here._

"Be quiet!" Carla seethed, clamping her hands over her ears. She felt tears gather in her eyes. She didn't want to believe Michelle was like the rest. Maybe they'd lied to her too about Rana and that's why she'd told her the nurse was dead.

There was a team of them now, slowly gathering in the reception area. One of them stepped forward and addressed Carla directly. She was a tall woman with dark, shiny hair and eyes that looked grey under the fluorescents.

"Hi, there. I'm Doctor Miller. Can you tell me your name?"

Carla shook her head and backed away, whimpering when she collided with the front of the reception desk.

"Stay away from me." She whispered, her eyes frantically searching the room. She needed an escape plan. But the fastest way was through the doors they'd just walked through and Johnny, Peter and Michelle were blocking it, three pairs of concerned eyes staring at her. No, not three. There were more. They were all staring.

 _Time's running out, Carla. Give it up._

"But I thought you'd leave if I—" she screwed her eyes up against the looming voice, her hand falling to her arm.

 _You thought that was punishment enough? After everything you've done? They're here to take you away now._

"No one's taking me anywhere!" She snapped viciously, rounding on the group that had cornered her, eyeing them with contempt.

"Carla, we're just here to help." This voice was familiar. She whipped around and saw that Ali had joined Michelle, his hand on her shoulder. He had a stethoscope slung loosely around her neck and Carla's eyes widened.

"You! You told them I was coming!" Fisting her hands into her hair, she tried to calm her rapid breathing. If she attempted to run the other way, it might buy her some time. But she didn't know these corridors or where they lead, she could run right into danger.

"You're not well, Carla, we just want to help you feel better."

 _They're going to poison you._

"No!" Carla swung around and grabbed the first thing that she might be able to cause damage with. It was a biro, one from the stand perched on the desk. She pulled off the lid and ran her thumb against the nib. It might work, but she'd have to use force. It had made it stop for a bit before, made it go away.

"Get security." Michelle didn't know which one had muttered it, but they'd all mistaken Carla's actions. The older brunette wasn't moving towards them, she was backing away, until she'd collided with a wall that was plastered in posters with advice on how to keep active for ages fifty plus.

"Wait, don't!" Michelle called out desperately, keeping her eyes fixed on the other woman's movements. "She doesn't want to hurt anyone. Let me talk to her."

Michelle approached her slowly, her hands held out in front of her. The room was quiet and she wondered if they'd all be able to hear the way her heart was hammering against her chest, blood pounding in her ears. But she wasn't scared of Carla. She was scared for her. The older woman slid down the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest. She clutched the pen so tightly in her hand that it shook.

Michelle crouched down in front of her.

"Hey," She whispered, waiting for Carla's eyes to meet hers.

"Why did you bring me here? They're going to lock me away."

"They're not, I promise you."

"I don't believe you. You lied about Rana. Why, 'Chelle? I trusted you." Carla looked genuinely heartbroken, tears brimming and causing her eyes to sparkle a vivid green in the stark light as she tilted her head towards the ceiling, trying to blink them back.

"Carla, look at me." Michelle inched closer, reaching out to tuck her finger beneath the other woman's chin. "Do you remember what I said to you at Peter's?"

Carla nodded, the moisture finally spilling over and leaking down her face. "You don't think I'm bad."

"Yeah, that's right. And I _care_ about you. I want to look after you." Michelle reaffirmed, her other hand gently swiping at her cheeks, brushing the wetness from them. "Do you think I'd let anyone here hurt you? Or take you away?"

Their eyes locked, Carla focusing hard on hers. They were always so sincere, calming. Even when her skin prickled with fear and every part of her was screaming at her to run, the woman in front of her was grounding.

 _She lied to you._

Carla dipped her head, letting out a quiet whimper, her free hand clamping over one of her ears. Michelle's face fell and she had to force back her own emotion. It was vital she helped her see that she needed to be here, because the fragile bundle hunched up before her was world's apart from the woman she grew up with. She loved her anyway, even this way, her heart _ached_ with it, but she was so ill and it was terrifying.

"Those voices you hear," Michelle began, gently easing Carla's hand away and instead placing her own either side of her face, cupping her cheeks. "I know they're scary, I know they're real for you, but they can be stopped. If you stay, they'll go, sweetheart"

Carla let out a hum of longing at the thought, her reddened eyes closing. She wanted to believe her so badly. Gentle thumbs brushed beneath her eyes and she forced them open again, looking up at the younger brunette through lashes that were dark and clumped, droplets still clinging to tiny hairs. Michelle leaned in closer, lightly resting her forehead against the other woman's, a relieved smile forming across her lips when Carla's hand moved to gaze along her jaw, settling against her face.

"You are so special to me, Carla. You know that, don't you?"

She gave a small nod. She _did_ know. Michelle had told her before.

"Will you let the Doctor's help you?" The younger woman pleaded, her words warm against her skin.

"I'm scared."

The tiny admission nearly sent tears cascading down Michelle's cheeks, but she managed to hold them back. She wished she could take it from her. If given the option, she'd switch places in a heartbeat if it meant she'd never again have to look into Carla's eyes and see her soul so tortured.

"I know, baby, I know," she murmured quietly, raising her chin until her lips grazed softly against her forehead. "But I'd never have brought you here if it wasn't safe, never." Michelle pulled back slightly, still close enough to feel the warmth of her breath against her skin. It wasn't calm, but it was steadier than before. "You're my best friend," she affirmed, though it didn't feel nearly enough to describe exactly what they were. "And there's no way I'm losing you, absolutely no one is going to lock you away. I wouldn't let that happen."

She could see Carla's resolve wearing, a flutter of hope blossoming in her chest. She was getting through to her. Her shoulders had relaxed, the fierce defiance in her eyes had softened.

"I love you, sweetheart. I just want you to feel better and then we can go home."

Carla let out a sob, falling forward into Michelle's awaiting arms. She secured them around her, letting her cry, dropping kisses against the top of her head. "It's okay, it's all going to be okay."

Michelle was thankful that the hospital staff allowed them a few moments, that she'd been able to talk Carla into maybe not an agreement to get treatment but at the very least there seemed to be some understanding of the fact she was there so she could be helped. She could feel the pen in the other brunette's hand digging lightly into her back and was reminded that as much as she wished otherwise, they couldn't stay wrapped up together on the hospital floor.

"Let me take that," Michelle assisted Carla to her feet, gently unraveling her fingers and easing the biro from them. She held it out to Ali, who took it form her and stored it safely in his pocket. There was a gentle clap on her shoulder and she turned to see Johnny smiling gratefully at her, giving her a reassuring nod. Peter wasn't smiling, he was watching her thoughtfully, as though trying to work something out. He looked like he was about to step forward to speak to Carla, but seemed to think the better of it.

"Can I walk with her?"

"Just to the end of the corridor."

Nodding, Michelle secured an arm around the other brunette's waist and Carla curled into her, both of her own arms clamping firmly around the younger woman. She clung to her as they set off down the corridor together, Michelle whispering against her hair soothingly.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay, I promise."

Carla was shaking, violent tremors that was jolted the other woman too. She was petrified, her eyes wide and full of tears. They fell down her face when they neared the double doors and Michelle felt her hold tighten so much that it restricted her own breath. Michelle wanted to break down and cry. She could have, right in the middle of the corridor, but she stiffened her lip when the doctor paused. On her other side, Ali turned to her, his face soft with regret.

"We can't go through there, it's a secure ward."

Michelle turned to face him, her eyes desperate. "But I'll need to visit—"

"Oh, you can. You'll just have to be cleared first and you'll be given a visitor's pass when you sign in."

If Carla was taking any of this information in, she didn't show it. Her own gaze was fixed firmly on the doors that were closed.

 _Once you go through there, you'll never come out. Do you hear? You will never come out._

Carla shook her head rapidly, starting to back up. "No, no I can't. I can't." She panicked, her breathing becoming laboured once more. "Don't make me go." Turning to Michelle, her green eyes bore pleadingly into hazel, rapid bursts of air radiating against her cheek.

"It's okay, remember? You're going to get better." Michelle attempted to reassure her again, but Carla let out a desperate cry and shook her head, snatching Michelle's hand up in her own.

"I can't go, they're taking me away. Don't let them. Please, don't let them. If you love me, you won't let them take me."

Michelle's heart squeezed painfully in her chest, every harrowing thump polluting her veins with guilt and sorrow. She couldn't even swallow, it felt like knives were stabbing into the back of her throat, spikes of cramp causing her muscles to constrict. Carla's tormented hues were pleading with her and there was a part of her that, no matter how wrong of a thing to do, wanted to bundle her up and take her home, to protect her from everything she was scared of. But she was so far beyond the help of a reassuring hug and she had to do what was best for her. No matter how difficult. And it was going to be difficult. She thought she felt her heart crack the second she began to pull away from Carla.

"I'm sorry, baby." She whispered, barely managing to bite back the pained whimper that sounded in the back of her throat.

"No, no don't leave me. You can't. You said you loved me!"

"I do, Carla." She choked, unable to stand that she thought otherwise. She knew it was the illness driving her belief, that her mind wasn't well enough for her to perceive her actions as anything other than betrayal, but it still broke her. "That's why I'm doing this. You'll understand, when you're better. That's all I want and then we can go home." Michelle's eyes drifted over the top of Carla's head and she gave a reluctant nod to the medical team on standby, swallowing painfully as she tried to brace herself. She brought her hand to the traumatised brunette's cheek, stroking her thumb against her damp skin just as a firm, but gentle pair of hands took hold of Carla's shoulders.

"I'll be waiting right here, okay? As soon as I can, I'll be with you again."

"No!" Carla cried out, completely terror-stricken when she was pulled away from the other woman. She still had her hand, fighting with all the strength her weakened form could muster to keep the hold that Michelle was trying to break from.

 _If you let them take you, you won't come back. Don't let go of her, Carla. Do not let go!_

Michelle was still pulling away and whoever was trying to take her was strong. Too strong. Nails dug into the delicate skin on the back of her hand as she fought to keep her grip. She wasn't meaning to hurt her, she didn't even know, Carla was desperate and terrified and Michelle was struggling to go against every instinct that had always told her to reach out to the other woman whenever she'd been in distress.

"Don't leave me, please 'Chelle." Carla's voice was softer, raspy, like she was slowly giving up and that was worse, the defeated drop of her shoulders, the hopeless dulling of her eyes when she resigned herself to whatever horrific fate her mind perceived.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I swear to you, Carla, nothing bad is going to happen." There were tears flowing freely down her cheeks, the back of her hand stung where the skin had broken and despite her crushed demeanour, the older brunette made one last attempt to cling onto her. Angry red lines marred her skin when she swiftly pulled her hand from Carla's, a sob tearing from her throat when she did.

" _No_!" Carla screamed out, aggressively fighting against the medical team who were trying to steer her towards the ward for treatment. "You're not sorry!" She choked, her manic gaze suddenly fierce as they regarded the younger brunette in front of her. "You don't love me! You're letting them take me and I'm _never_ going to forgive you!"

Michelle's hands were clamped tightly over her mouth, muffling the cries trapped behind them. Her eyes streamed heavily as she watched her best friend being hauled away. More than her best friend. She was still kicking and fighting and screaming out to her as she disappeared through the doors. "I hate you! Do you hear me? I said I _hate_ you!"

Carla's terrified voice rang in her ears, froze her heart and she dropped onto the floor, her knees smashing against the hard, gleaming ground, her own breathing rapid and ragged. Her hands fell from her mouth to splay against the shining linoleum and she let out a strangled howl. Her body shook, she was wracked with cry after cry, her chest tight and breath restricted in her throat.

"Michelle!"

She didn't even hear Johnny call out her name, his face white and clammy. He'd been watching through the glass of the first set of doors with Peter. He felt sick. Part of him wasn't sure he'd have been able to do what Michelle just had. The woman on the ground was distraught. Ali was crouched beside her, but she was inconsolable. She didn't even react when Johnny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

"Oh love, I'm so sorry." He murmured, his voice low and calming. Johnny really was sorry. Sorry she'd had to be the one to do that. She could have turned away, offered Carla no reassurances, she could have left her the moment they stepped through the doors and she wouldn't have had to see the older woman so undeniably broken. But she'd stayed, right up until she couldn't and that was one of the bravest things he'd ever witnessed.

Michelle leant into his hold, her teeth chattering. Carla's frantic screams still echoed in her ears, her hand throbbed and stung where her nails had so crucially clawed at her to try and make her stay. The worst thing by far was the expression on her face which was now painted onto the backs of the younger woman's screwed up lids. She'd never seen Carla like that before, the desperation in her eyes, the overwhelming fear as she'd begged her not to leave. It send a wave of pain so deeply and physically present that she groaned out loud against it, the sound muffled by the material of Johnny's coat.

She never wanted to see Carla like that again.

 **A/n: Are we all okay?**

 **Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone's amazing reviews. I'm bawled over by the support and how everyone is being so kind. This was such a difficult chapter to write and I do have to get into a certain mindset, because I need to really feel the emotions in order to write, so I had to take myself off to some dark places. I have some personal experience of certain aspects of mental health, but psychosis as a symptom of mental illness was completely new to me. It's been heavy and at times draining to write but also educational and in some ways therapeutic. In the show Carla is missing longer but I want to focus a lot of recovery/relapses too (healing isn't linear) and the show tends to skip out on a lot of that— so this still has a very long way to go!**

 **I know descriptions of self harm and the "relieving effect" described can be really triggering. I tried to be cautious of this, however I wanted to be as authentic as possible in describing what was going through the character's mind at the time. If anyone is affected, you can go to the MIND (dot org dot uk) website. (just google 'mind')**

 **At the top of the webpage there are buttons you can click to talk to someone or get urgent help. You can also dial 111 and someone will call you back and speak to you.**

 **You can also talk to me! Either via fan fiction message or you'll find my Twitter info on my profile.**

 **Thank you again for your support, your reviews have been so kind and super uplifting! I'm going on holiday now so my updates will slow a little. I do need a bit of a break from this heavy stuff anyway so once i'm home, i'll be able to continue.**

 **take care!**


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